Chains Adventurous - Orre Adventures
by nvzblgrrl
Summary: Of all the regions in all the world of Pokémon, the past place anyone would want to be was Orre. This goes double for anyone coming in from the outside. To be fair, landing there was pretty much standard operating procedure for my life. Pokémon Colosseum and Pokémon XD: Gale of Darkness based, but not excluding other content. Self-Insert, a Jumpchain story. Warnings for language.
1. Chapter 1

My alarm clock buzzed and I reached over to shut it off almost on reflex before I froze, my body locking up as my brain went through a quick cascade of realizations.

I didn't remember going to bed. I hadn't been at home. Even if I was at home, this wasn't my room. The last conversation I had was with a – thing. My new 'patron'. An unconvincingly person-shaped, omnipotent-god-thing that decided that letting me live a self-insert life was cool entertainment.

I would have probably been more onboard with that assessment if I wasn't being mindfucked by two sets of memories jockeying for primacy. I was a twenty-two year-old no-future loser from Pine Creek. I was a sixteen year-old no-future loser from Pyrite Town.

Okay, that wasn't that big of a difference. At least my name hadn't changed.

I rubbed my forehead with a small groan. "Aight, that wasn't fun."

There was an inquisitive 'whiirrhuu?' from a high bookshelf originally intended as a storage locker.

I peeked open an eye to look up at my Rowlet, who was peering over the edge with beady black eyes. The owl Pokémon was adorable, even with my head feeling like my frontal lobe had somehow invoked the wrath of the brainpain leprechaun. "Just had… one hell of a mindscrew, Leven."

"Chuf-whiiriiir."

"I think it would take a Psychic-type to really explain it without me sounding completely nuts."

I couldn't speak to Pokémon. Well, technically, I could. It was the 'understanding' part of conversation that was hit-and-miss.

Like the anime – god, it was weird applying 'anime' to a set of memories that said 'my real life' without some sort of joke present –, Pokémon were fairly expressive and in ways that were fairly hard not to understand on some level. 'Yes', 'no', 'I don't like that', 'I really like that', and 'Timmy's in the well?' types of reactions were pretty easy to understand. Higher conversation? That required a rare talent, one that only the part of me not of this world knew of.

Leven most certainly understood me, or at least most of what I was saying. Me, I had to extrapolate and translate based on noises that I couldn't hope to imitate.

Not that I hadn't tried, back when I'd first gotten the Grass/Flying-type.

Despite my living in Pyrite Town my mom had somehow managed to get me one of the formal starters. Given, it was one of the Alola set and it had probably 'fallen off the back of a truck', but considering that the starters my peer group had gotten included Surskit, Hoppip, and an actual fucking Wooper, I wasn't exactly going to complain about an out-of-region starter.

I slid out of bed, bracing my feet against the slightly gritty floor of my room. Sand. That was the reality of Orre. It was like a compact Tattooine; low on resources, high on crime, and nothing but sand and rock as far as the eye could see. Unless you lived in Gateon Port, Agate Village, or some other place where you somehow had water or trees to keep the sand down, sand was going to be the next common thing in your life after gravity and oxygen.

And in the cheap, sandstorm beaten metal and concrete houses of Pyrite Town, there was always going to be sand.

I shook out a change of clothes and got dressed. Technically, they weren't clean, but until there was an unmistakable smell or stain on them, laundry wasn't an option. Water was for drinking, Pokémon care, cooking, bathing, and laundry… in that order. And dry baths were a thing.

It wasn't that weird, for either of my memories. One set because I'd lived here my whole life, the other because I was a depressive who maybe did laundry once a month and didn't care much about my personal appearance in general.

Still, sixteen year-old me had a sense of style I could appreciate. I still had my navy blue track jacket with the white stripes, though this one was slightly different, with a chunkier white zipper, a higher collar, and a thick white stripe across my bust rather than the Old Navy logo I was used to. Thick cargo jeans and heavy boots would protect my legs from the sand and a pair of Go-Goggles sat along the band of my black and red newsboy cap to serve the same purpose for my eyes.

As soon as my messenger bag was over my shoulder, I stretched out my arm for Leven to perch on. The Rowlet did with a tinny rolling chirp before sideling up to my shoulder to nuzzle against my cheek before I called him into his Pokéball.

I grinned as I fixed the ball to my belt. Maybe this adventure wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

In the early morning, Pyrite Town is almost picturesque, but it's the sort of picturesque reserved for ghost towns and abandoned factories. If you looked at the old Pyrite Building from the right angle, with its broken windows and the trails of rust that ran tracks down its desert-beaten face, it was like nobody lived here at all.

Of course, this would be the point where some motherfucker on a tank of a motorcycle roars into town and breaks the spell.

In this universe, I have an eye for bikes. Another gift from my mother, I supposed, though it had less to do with brand than raw mechanics, given that Orre wasn't much in the business of luxury goods, imported or not. This meant that any vehicles available were at least a decade old and held together by prayers, spit, and rust, which made mechanics like us valuable resources.

This particular specimen was a brute force beaut, built for making cross-region runs in under a week. In a past life, it might have been a hog, but now it was a Frankensteinian mishmash of mechanics and technology. Most of the motorcycle was engine, a massive diesel that looked like it had been ripped out of a dragster, balanced all on a single wheel and rudimentary antigravity, the one technology that Orre had produced before anyone else. It was kind of necessary, given that mundane vehicles had been proven worthless over and over again in the face of the shifting dunes. One only needed visit the Outskirt Stand to see the one disastrous attempt at bringing rail to Orre.

The motorcycle, once you got past the tech and the god-sized engine, was fairly average; rust orange, with a purple flame decal anointing the sidecar and the remains of the original motorcycle.

What was more interesting than the bike was the guy who was dismounting it.

The guy wasn't tall. No, he was just a teenager, maybe twenty at the oldest, with ashy blonde hair, a silver visor, and wearing a long blue coat and black skinny jeans with metal plated boots. An Umbreon and an Espeon followed at his heels, warily watching the street.

On his arm was a strange gauntlet, red and black enamel almost matte against the shine of his leather – nobody with any common sense wore vinyl in Orre – coat, but that wasn't important.

I _knew_ this kid.

The Espeon caught my stare and flicked its tail. A warning. I looked away and started down the street, stewing in my thoughts.

Pokémon Colosseum had been an interesting game because, compared to Gold and Sapphire version, it actually had a discernable plot. A darker, more intense plot than I'd expected in 2003, but I was ten when I'd got my copies. A ten year-old's idea of 'dark' was unpolished, defined by fleeting emotions, common clichés, and overplayed pathos, but Colosseum had almost dragged me into thinking.

If I was living in the timeframe of that story – well, if I was going to be here for the next decade, I was likely to run into the plot of the sequel as well – and actually living in close contact with Pokémon, I was going to see Shadow Pokémon up close. Hell, if I wasn't careful, my own Pokémon could be stolen and have their hearts forcibly closed.

Now, wasn't that a terrifying prospect?

"What's eatin' you, Delaine?"

I blinked and looked over at Zeph, who was leaning up against the corner of the PokéCenter. He was one of the better kids in my approximate age group, though he was a couple years older with the patchy stubble to show, but instead of taking up mechanics like I had, he'd settled into courier work. Where the hell Zeph picked up his Man-With-No-Name look and his darn-tootin' accent was beyond me, since he was as local as I was and I didn't ever make use of the word 'reckon'.

"Just thinking. Team Snagem has been running wild lately and you know I have an uncommon starter. Nobody knows what they do with the Pokémon they steal…" Well, I did, but that was out-of-context intelligence, "– and all I can figure is that it's nothing good."

Zeph scratched under his hat. "Fair 'nough. I worry 'bout runnin' into one of them Snag Machines whenever I have to go out to Phenac City. Vibrava aren't exactly common either, though an Alolan starter's a far sight rarer, I'll admit."

It was odd to think of a guy like Zeph, who didn't care much for things like sitting still, starting out with a Trapinch, but the Vibrava it had evolved into was a slightly better fit for the wannabe cowboy. The Flygon it was sure to become would probably be completely and utterly awesome, but even though I didn't know exactly what my Rowlet was going to evolve into, I wouldn't trade Leven for an Arceus.

"Do you need me to look over your bike?" I asked. Zeph's 'Western Siryn' wasn't much compared to Wes's monster, but she was a good speedy bike outfitted with both saddlebags and hard case containers that could be turned into built-in iceboxes should the need arise. The fact that the bike was painted and subtly modeled after a Flygon would be almost prophetic if not for the fact that Zeph got his starter years before his ride.

"Wouldn't say no to a look over, but I ain't noticed no trouble as of late."

"Better to catch it here than out in Eclo."

Zeph snorted. "You ain't kiddin'. Nothing but empty out there."

I waved back at him as I started walking again. "Drag your bike down to the shop later then, we'll give her a tune-up."

I shoved Wes to the back of my mind as I made my way down the street. The exact details of the plot escaped me, eight years since I sold the game, but I did remember that the game started with the destruction of Team Snagem's base. Seeing as that rather unmissable event hadn't made the news yet, it hadn't happened yet.

I looked up at the Pyrite Colosseum. Technically, the dome was a pre-existing structure that was being modified for battle and tournament use, but there was a malodorous aura to it, like I could sense the deeds that would take place there in the future.

Maybe Cipher was already distributing Shadow Pokémon through the Under's Colosseum. Maybe there were other routes they were using, like Team Rocket's Game Corner. Hell, maybe they had an order list. I refused to believe they had peons standing around in shady alleyways distributing Shadow Pokémon out of conspicuous trench coats.

The idea almost got a giggle out of me. Almost.

I'd never managed to Purify a single Pokémon in Colosseum. This was partially because I never actually beat the game and mostly because I never found the Relic Stone. Heck, I'd never found the Relic Stone in Gale of Darkness either. I'd only found out about it from an online wiki some years after I had pawned off both games to help finance my Xbox 360. I had been hoping for a 3DS remake, because Pokémon-Amie seemed like a perfect fit for the games, but that was one of those longshot ideas.

I scuffed my heel against a bit of exposed rock.

Now, it was more than likely impossible that I'd ever get to play such a game, unless my 'patron' got creative with their gift bags.

I looked around, tracing the seams of lighter sandstone through the canyon walls that protected Pyrite Town from the worst of the sandstorms. Besides the hanging threat of plot, there wasn't much on my mind today. I mean, sure, I was having a minor case of double consciousness, but the two were fairly reconcilable and the weird moments were becoming less and less frequent.

My path winded through town, only doubling back at the bridge to the Colosseum. With a party of one unevolved starter, I had no reason to go any closer to the battered white dome of doom. The streets were fairly uncrowded at this hour, in the painful stage of morning where the sun seemed to do nothing but glint off of every possible surface, though there was the odd early bird flitting around.

Like Madame Fateen, the fortune teller. Which was weird, because usually when she took a walk, it was to three different areas; the hotel café, Duking's house, and the tiny farmer's market that sprang up on weekends with the only fresh produce you could get in Orre outside of Phenac City and Gateon Port.

"Oh, it's you, Delaine," she said, reaching up to adjust her coke-bottle glasses. "I had a vision concerning you…"

An amazing feat through those lenses, a part of me thought uncharitably. "Good or bad?" I asked, though I had a fair guess at what the answer would be.

"Oh, a shadowed path, I fear," Fateen said, as if her ominous words were the juiciest sort of gossip, "fraught with danger and great risk to you and yours. But something tells me you will persevere. You've always been a determined child, with a good heart."

I sighed. That sounded a lot like plot-relevancy. "Well, at least it won't be boring, right?"

The old woman tittered. "Oh, most certainly not," she said before giving me a small nod and continuing on her way. "You be good now, Delaine."

"Of _course_ ," I replied, even though she was likely out of earshot by now.

"Suck up."

I spun around on my heel to look at another of my 'peers', though I had less fond feelings towards this one than Zeph.

"Better than being tied with Johnson for 'Town Fuck-Up'," I snapped back.

I would never accuse Diaval of being an attractive guy, but that was mostly due to the fact that he was always vaguely sweaty and had a chronic inability to coordinate the various parts of his face. Somewhere he'd made the decision to wear a beanie cap and ski-goggles, even at night and indoors, which while making him look like a total douchebag, was an improvement over his natural looks.

Besides it wasn't exactly false advertising. He was a dick, with the wits to match.

"Delaine! I challenge you to a Pokémon battle!"

What? He was the Wooper kid. Even after he managed to evolve the blue piece of shit and round out his team with a Psyduck, I still had type advantage, even with only one Pokémon to my name. I had handed Diaval his own ass so many times, every battle had come with a foregone conclusion.

"Are you serious?" I asked. I didn't even want to look at his fucking starter today, much less beat the shit out of it.

Petty as it may seem, but I'd disliked Wooper since the original Gold version.

Maybe it was because it turned into Quagsire, which I had an even stronger antipathy towards, or maybe it was just the fact that its whole evolutionary line plagued my every playthrough every single fucking time I'd gotten through Violet City. Either way, I didn't like Wooper and I didn't like the kid who had the bad luck to start with one either.

"Of course I'm fucking serious! I'm going to win this time!" Diaval yelled before running off to the Duel Square.

I grimaced. Piece of shit. Well, at least what little experience we'd get from this idiot battle might encourage Leven to finally start moving up his evolutionary tree. Barring that, I'd end up with Dival's pocket change.

Unlike a gym or what I imagined a proper colosseum to be, the Duel Square was just a wide cleared area in the middle of town. Cracked sandstone arranged in jigsaw patterns that, if you squinted and used a bit of imagination, looked a little like a Pokéball.

Most people didn't do that bit, but the jigsaw circle was a good arena when there wasn't any other to be had. All you needed in a Pokémon battle was two trainers, but a clear boundary simplified things.

Diaval stood on the other side of the circle, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Something must have gone well for him. Maybe he'd caught another Pokémon? Whatever it was, given the options were Ground and Rock-types unless you got real lucky, I would almost certainly have a type-advantage.

He called out his Psyduck and I sent out Leven. While the poor little yellow duck waddled around in confusion –as someone who got headaches regularly and spent almost a decade repelled by sunlight, I could sympathize –, Leven fluttered down to the ground softly and 'whiiirruuuuuu'ed excitedly.

The little owl loved battling. I would have too, if we weren't constantly kicking the shit out of the same idiot.

"Leven, use Razor Leaf!"

The Rowlet jumped into the air, beating his wings to get some altitude before swiping both wings at the Psyduck, fresh green leaves coming out from between his feathers to fly at the unfortunate Water-type. The Psyduck scrambled away, but short little duck legs didn't go far against the storm of flying leaves, and it soon was rolling backwards, covered with some nasty looking scratches.

It wasn't enough to knock it out, but the Water Sport that it countered with was… fuck, I didn't know what it was. Pathetic, mostly. Effective, not in the least. Incredibly counter-productive if Diaval's secret weapon was a Fire-type.

Leven made another pass with Razor Leaf, which finally made the Psyduck faint. I hated beating the hell out of the duck Pokémon, but at least it was just a battle, not the sort of no-holds-barred beat down that could go down in the blood sport clubs.

Diaval grinned as he recalled his Psyduck and pulled out another Pokéball. This must be it; the secret weapon. He pulled back his arm and threw the ball, a red burst of light coming out to form…

That motherfucking Quagsire.

Uuuuuuuughhh – wait.

A bead of tension appeared between my shoulders. There was something wrong with the blue blob creature. I couldn't quite…

Oh, yes I could.

There was a black aura around the Pokémon, not so much a visual as it was a detectable cloud of malcontent that curdled the very air around it. Outside of that, the Quagsire itself looked angry, a weird and unsettling expression for something that normally had a very stupid looking smile plastered on its face.

"What… the fuck did you do, Diaval?"

Diaval grinned. "Oh, you can tell? I got Mire an… upgrade."

You fucking had your starter tortured and Dalek-ized because you couldn't beat me in a straight battle, that's what you did. You took every ounce of trust your Pokémon had for you and set it on fire. Because you couldn't beat one fucking trainer in battle.

My knuckles popped as I clenched my fists.

"Diaval…" I said slowly, trying not to let how apocalyptically angry I was show. "I am going to finish this battle… and then, I am going to hope to god that Chief Sherles or Duking steps in, because otherwise I am going to beat you to death for what you did to that Pokémon."

Diaval stepped back, the smirk falling off of his face, but that didn't stop his Quagsire from rushing forward, trying to Body Slam Leven into the ground.

Leven dodged, barely, before attacking with Razor Leaf again. The leaves scored a multitude of tiny papercuts along the Quagsire's back, but the slimy coating it wore over its skin ended up taking the most of the damage.

The Water-type looked up, before leaning back and filling its cheeks with something. And then it spat a fat glob of murky gunk right in my Rowlet's face.

Leven squawked, losing a little bit of altitude in surprise before catching himself, though there was still a disquieting shudder to his flight pattern.

His health had to be at least a third down. Nothing less than that would have rattled the little Grass-type so badly.

"Leven! Use Bullet Seed!" I yelled.

Leven nodded, before doing exactly that, spraying hard almond-shaped seeds from his beak. These weren't so easy for the Quagsire to shrug off, as the Shadowed Water-type reeled back with a pained roar.

"Dammit, Mire, the guy said you'd be unstoppable and you're just letting a stupid little owl beat the crap out of you like usual!" Diaval yelled.

"Excuse me for actually applying battle strategy instead of trying to beat a Grass type with fucking Water!" I snapped, "While you settle for letting someone else turn your Pokémon into a weapon, the trainers who actually give a damn go out and _work_ with their partners!"

"Uuuuwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhh!"

The Quagsire leaped almost straight up, grabbing Leven out of the air and crushing the little bird Pokémon into the stonework.

"Leven!" I cried.

"Whiruuuuuu…" my Rowlet cried weakly.

"How do you like that, huh?" Diaval crowed. "How does that defeat taste, Delaine?"

Leven pushed himself upright, the round little owl too small against the bulk of the Quagsire. "Chuff, chuff, whirrururu…" my battered little starter chirped.

God, this was heartbreaking, but he wouldn't take surrender as an option. "Leven, use Magical Leaf!"

Leven hooted in assent before flinging his wings towards his opponent, flashing bright leaves first scattering straight up into the air before suddenly shooting forward to slam directly into the Quagsire's center of mass.

'Overgrow' was in effect right? Like 'Torrent' for Grass-types, power-up in a pinch. God, why didn't I ever choose Grass-type starters in the games?

The Quagsire wobbled on its feet, looking almost surprised by its… defeat? Yes, it was a defeat, a close win for me and Leven, but still close enough for a trip to the PokéCenter to be necessary. The Water-type finally fell over, dissolving into red light as Diaval recalled it to its Pokéball.

"Can't believe I shelled out for this 'Shadow Pokémon' crap…" the kid muttered as he threw a handful of money to the ground and turned to leave.

He did that to his Pokémon and had the gall to blame it for not being able to beat an opponent that it could never defeat before? God, I was half-half tempted to mug Wes for the Snag Machine just to get the stupid blob away from its idiot trainer.

But Leven was hurt and I wasn't a trainer like Diaval. I'd rat the bastard out to… someone. Duking or Sherles. Somebody.

I recalled my Pokémon and ran to the PokéCenter, passing the Pokéball to the Nurse Joy behind the desk. Within a few moments, she handed the ball back and gave me a small bow.

"Come again."

I nodded and stepped outside again, enjoying the light breeze that chose that moment to pass.

"Hey."

Well, today was a day for interruptions, though this voice wasn't familiar at all. I turned to look at the speaker and immediately regretted it. There were two of them, both dressed fairly normally for Pyrite Town, but there was something… off about them. Something in the slant of their smiles or their posture.

"That battle earlier… you saw something wrong with that Quagsire?" the first creep said. His tone wasn't concerned or even politely interested. It was testing and vaguely predatory.

Maybe it was unreasonable to judge on appearance, but given that I'd been able to detect the negative energy of a Shadow Pokémon, I was inclined to listen to my instincts. And my instincts were screaming that these guys were not flagging me down for a pleasant chat.

I stepped back, ready to run, but that was all the invitation they needed to jump me. And then I knew nothing.

* * *

The only difference between being unconscious while tied up in a burlap sack and being conscious while tied up in a burlap sack is being able to think and then panic over your situation.

I was in the back of a vehicle, probably a truck bed if the grumbling engine and hard metal beneath me was any indication. The truck was going through the desert, full of screaming wind, unforgiving sun, and dunes that rose and dipped like the sea.

I had no idea how long I'd been out. Hours? A day? Where we were, besides 'desert' – hell, ninety percent of Orre was desert, that didn't narrow it down – was beyond me, but where we were ultimately headed was infinitely less of a mystery.

Cipher. Either to be exploited or eliminated, depending on what my ability meant to them and their plans.

Oh god, what about Leven? What would they do to my starter?

No, I mentally reprimanded myself, this wasn't the time to freak out and start crying. I started wiggling against the rope binding my wrists, trying to loosen it up. I didn't need a lot of give, just enough to get a hand out so I could release my Rowlet. Even if I got taken, I wouldn't let my starter go down with me or in the event of a better chance at escape for both of us, Leven could slice the ropes with a Razor or Magical Leaf.

Of course, all of that hinged on me being able to loosen this… fucking… rope.

The truck slowed, coming to a stop.

"The boss is going to want this girl brought to the house," one said as they picked me up.

"What about her Pokémon? Looked like a rare one, Folly."

"Eh, we'll get it when we deliver her. No point in giving her a chance to escape, Trudy."

"Fair enough. Just hard to get a grip when she won't stop squirming."

There was no more warning before I kicked out on reflex, hitting something soft. I was instantly dropped.

Okay, hard smooth stone – on that subject, ouch – and the sound of rushing water. Phenac City for sure.

"Ahh! Shit, the little bitch has teeth!" Folly yelled through what was very clearly pain.

Beneath the burlap, I grinned. Get rekt.

Increasing my struggles to get free, I started yelling, "Hey! Somebody help! Kidnappers!"

"Shut up!"

Now why the fuck would I do that? "Help me! They knocked me out, tied me up, and shoved me in an unlaundered bag," I yelled louder.

"What's going on over here?"

"Who's shouting?"

"Who are those guys?"

"Fucking damn it…" Trudy growled, "The one time we go out of our way for the boss and it turns… to… shit! I oughta –"

"You 'oughta' what?" a new voice cut in. It was cool, its owner obviously unimpressed with what was standing before him. Considering that 'what' was two idiots with a writhing sack between them, it was a completely accurate assumption. There was nothing to be impressed with here.

"Tch. Doesn't look like I have a choice," Folly said before the sound of two Pokéballs releasing marked the start of a battle. "Bring it!"

In the end, I could only discern four moves and a humiliating defeat, the kind that we called 'a spanking' back in Pyrite Town, nothing less than a complete and utter smackdown to knock an uppity trainer back down to the appropriate peg.

Whoever had saved me – and didn't I have a sinking feeling as to that upcoming revelation – had proven that anyone whose parents named them 'Folly' was a born loser.

"You… You're not normal!" Folly yelled.

"You have _two_ Whismur," my rescuer pointed out, "It wasn't a particularly difficult battle."

"Trudly, back me up here!" Folly yelled.

I could almost _hear_ Trudly shrugging helplessly. "Sorry man, my party's wiped out from my turn in the colosseum earlier."

"Dude, we were at a PokéCenter earlier!"

"Where we kidnapped somebody!" the seemingly smarter of the duo whined, "It wasn't like I could just go in and get my team restored!"

"Whatever!" Folly snapped, "We're not telling the boss we lost her to Team Snagem's –"

There was a step forward. "Just in case you forgot the script, this is the part where you run," my rescuer said.

"R-right."

There was a clatter of feet as Trudy and Folly ran for it, ignoring their truck as they broke for the desert. There was a fair chance they'd die, but people got lucky sometimes and fear was a good motivator for some.

Besides, didn't someone once say that the gods protected idiots?  
"Can somebody untie me?"

"Sure."

The vague shadow of a person shifted across the surface of the burlap sack I was in as my rescuer knelt next to me and started untying the rope. He made short work of the knot holding the bag shut and, once he pulled it off, I was completely blinded by the sun for a brief, dazzling second.

As my eyes focused, I saw my rescuer for the second time today and froze.

"Name's Wes," my rescuer said with a small smirk in response to my shocked expression. "Nice to meet cha."

Fucking shit. Plot relevancy.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Ai ai ai. Finally got something around in writing (but it wasn't a new chapter of my previous story, so wah wah wah). Who knows, maybe once I get some zeal back for One Piece, I'll do some more work there, because there's nothing horrifically embarrassing in the writing I have down for Luck of the Draw so far.**  
 **The weirdest thing about this story was how freaking uncomfortable it was using my actual first name for a character. Slightly disquieting, but it is a common name enough not to be too out of place. I did change the name of my hometown, but to a name it had almost two centuries ago, so there's that. It's not that relevant, just a fun fact.**

 **I've been meaning to do both a Jumpchain and a Pokémon Colosseum / XD: Gale of Darkness story, so I'm pleased to have finally begun making out on that score, even if it's both at the same time.**

 **As I try with most of my stories, I try to expand on the plot and change certain points, so don't entirely expect everything to go as to the plot those of you familiar with the story much expect.**

 **The basic set up is Jumpchain, which you should be able to find fairly easy using a search engine. There are a lot of possible jumps and while I might take suggestions for future ones, I do have some in mind and would prefer to focus on getting through Pokémon first.**

 **Ideally, this would be a series, with a fic for each jump, but we'll see what the future brings us.**

 **As always, comments and criticism are welcome.**

* * *

 **Jumpchain Build**

* * *

 **Bodymod**

 **600 points**

 **Medium Build (Free)**

 **Athlete (100 cp)**

 **Flexibility 1 (Free) – Peak human flexibility**

 **Sense Rank 1 (50 cp) – 20/20 vision**

 **Speed Rank 3 (50 cp) – Usain Bolt**

 **Appeal Rank 1 (50 cp) – No acne ever**

 **Metavore (100 cp) – Never gain weight, not matter what diet.**

 **Dexterity Rank 4 (100 cp) – Mirror's Edge Parkour, Zipline, wallrunning, fallrolls.**

 **Endurance Rank 3 (150 cp) – Run a marathon, sleep 10 hours, run another.**

* * *

 **Pokémon**

 **Orre**

 **1000 cp + 200 cp (Marked – Cipher)**

 **Age: 16**

 **Starter – Rowlet (Free)**

 **Small Town (50 cp)**

 **Bigger On The Inside Bag (Free)**

 **Pokéball(s) (5) (Free)**

 **Pokégear (Free)**

 **Pokédex (Free)**

 **Potion(s) (3) (Free)**

 **Hat (Free)**

 **Physical Fitness (Free)**

 **Motorcycle (100 cp) – fast transport, infinite fuel (currently in Pyrite Town).**

 **Laptop (100 cp) – Solar powered, top-tier parts, satellite linked to the internet of the Pokémon world. (currently in Pyrite Town)**

 **Survival Skills (100 cp) – innate knowledge of survival skills, can survive in practically anywhere.**

 **Combat Training (100 cp) – mastery of hand-to-hand combat, retain cool head during a fight.**

 **Mechanic (150 cp) – adept with a tool box, can repair and improve most machines.**

 **Technician (300 cp) – Technically adept with technology, from the PC to the Pokéball.**

 **Aura (300 cp) – Aura powers. Starting out with rudimentary sensory ability, but with training can manage Aura feats on par with a Lucario. Includes barriers, empathic ability, and Aura Sphere. [Currently exploring the beginnings of the Empathic Reader ability.]**


	2. Chapter 2

" _Name's Wes," my rescuer said with a small smirk in response to my shocked expression. "Nice to meet cha."_

Plot relevancy had seen me shoved into a sack and dragged across a forty mile stretch of desert for this; I was now the glorified scouter of a teenage ex-con on his quest to purify the hearts of Pokémon put through a horrific process.

Yeah, considering that the most tying us together was the fact that I needed a ride home because opting to walk any great distant in Orre was tantamount to committing suicide, it seemed like a quest doomed to fall apart as soon as the words 'welp, I guess I'm home, thanks for the ride' were said. How Rui stayed – beyond the fact that the game's script demanded her presence – past Agate Village was beyond me.

For now, I was content to play the part of tourist.

Phenac City, unlike Pyrite Town, was all crisp lines and gleaming white quartz inlaid with other colors of the stone to make colorful designs in the pavement. Where Pyrite Town had started out as a mining town, Phenac City began as an oasis with a weakly burbling spring source that, years after the original mayor Cassidy Cade expanded and reinforced it to pump enough water to keep a small town in business. It was clear that every single aspect of it was planned, from the symmetry of the streets to the way the water of the high-domed fountain that doubled as the city's colosseum was led to flow from the town's highest point to the lowest before flowing beneath the city, either into a purifier or to be used as bathing water.

This was still Orre and even the most opulent had to curry to common sense in the face of it.

"So, why did they kidnap you?" Wes asked, breaking my reverie. At my questioning look, he continued, not looking the least bit embarrassed. "You're from Pyrite, so you're probably not related to anyone important and by the same rule, your family probably doesn't have money, there are more…"

There was a hair of hesitation before he settled on a word he was comfortable with.

"…efficient ways to steal Pokémon than kidnapping the trainer, so that means that there's something about you specifically that somebody wanted. So what was it?"

Because my patron didn't trust me not to just keep my head down for the duration of my 'stay'. "Bad luck," I said around a grimace, "Saw something I wasn't supposed to and made the stupid decision to announce it to the entire town. Surprised you didn't hear it, considering I saw you walking through maybe an hour before."

Wes's face closed slightly as his eyes slid over to the horizon. "Was just stopping for a couple supplies."

"The kind of stuff you can only get in Pyrite Town?" I asked before throwing up my hands. "Hey, I'm local. I know the score; keep it vague if you gotta talk about it at all."

He nodded, though his expression still remained remote.

I winced before trying something else. "Ever make a go at the colosseum?"

"Couple of times, mostly when I needed the prize for something," he answered, looking up to the dome that stood at the apex of the city, half covered in a cascade of glimmering water, "Last job ended up spending plenty of time around 'em, but I can't stand staying in one place for long."

I spared a glance to one of the troughs of running water, which was so clear I could see every detail of the crystal mosaics that zigzagged the bottom, admittedly though the view was warped through the water rushing above it.

Yes, the idea of just… staying in one place for the rest of my life seemed horrible. Like if I did, I'd just become part of the old factory machinery, unable to even breathe for all the rust holding me fast. It didn't matter if it was Pine Creek or Pyrite Town. In the end, they were the same; old factory towns that the world forgot, leaving them behind to rot away into less than memories. Ghosts at the best, nothing at the worst.

"So what's your story?" Wes asked, drawing my attention back to reality. "You said you saw something you weren't supposed to. What was it?"

My resting bitch face congealed into something with more steel and open distaste. "You hear anything about Shadow Pokémon?"

"Supposed to be stronger than the usual? Thought it was some pretentious breeder's thing. You know, the kind who do the training for people who don't want to do it themselves."

People did that? God, what was even the point of that? Forget lazy, how did you even expect your Pokémon to listen to you if you didn't even train them?

I snorted. "If that was the sum total of it, I wouldn't have threatened to beat the kid to death for having his starter turned into one."

Ignoring the look of surprise that crossed Wes's face, I continued, "Shadow Pokémon have something wrong with them, the kind of 'wrong' that requires hard drugs, extreme abuse, or the interference of something incredibly malevolent."

I reached up to tap my face right next to my eye. "I have a sort of 'second sight' called 'Aura'. Could be used for other stuff, but without training, I'm tapped out at reading other people's auras. Emotions, mostly. Most Pokémon? They're happy to be battling, maybe a little intense if they're the serious type. The Shadow Pokémon I battled against this morning? Nothing but all consuming hatred."

Wes's look had been curdling through the stages of skepticism, going from a vague incredulity to the sort of expression that accompanied the thought 'uh huh, you go on with that, whacko'.

I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, it doesn't take magic powers to pick out one of those Shadow Pokémon from the rest of the herd. They're highly aggressive, a tendency towards attacks that damage themselves regardless of if they make contact or not…"

"Willing to attack trainers directly?"

I gave Wes a sidelong look, and saw that the disbelieving look had dissolved almost completely. Ah, so he'd seen one. "Sounds about right. You think that a normal breeder would be able to do that?"

"No," Wes said, a steely glint in his eyes, "Got an idea on a 'who' though."

Really? Now I'm curious.

We were near the 'top' of the town; the water-covered dome that served both as the primary fount of water and the Phenac Colosseum. The only clear sign that it was an open building was the tunnel that served as the main entrance and in the middle of that tunnel was walking a squat figure with a very obvious bald spot sitting between otherwise voluminous grey fluff.

"Ah! Visitors! I am the mayor of this fine city, Backley S. Cade!" the man said brightly.

I blinked.

Wasn't this guy the true villain of the first game? Talk about hiding in plain sight; this was a King Candy act for the ages. He didn't even look vaguely sleazy. Just like a harmless old man who might spoil his grandkids with cheap strawberry sweets while he tried to dodge paperwork. But there was this vibe around him. Like an over-tightened guitar string, just waiting to snap loose and slice open your hand the moment you struck the wrong chord.

Or maybe it was just me.

"You two have the look of trainers!" Mayor Cade said, "Have you come to enter the colosseum? It's the jewel of our fair city and a massive draw to tourists, much to my delight!"

Wes shook his head. "Nah. Just sightseeing before we hit the desert again. Not exactly a lot of scenery out there. But I might stop by later."

"Ah, that's Orre for you!" Mayor Cade said with a laugh, "You've got to work her treasures from her grasp. Like how my grandfather did this city and her water! Anyway, just ask the young lady manning the desk if there are any brackets free; they do tend to fill up quickly…"

With that, the Mayor walked on along, whistling a jaunty, if somewhat directionless tune.

* * *

The colosseum was, of course, closed. All the brackets had been filled and while there were still seats free in the stands, neither of us were in the mood to play observer. I wanted to go home, hug my mom, get something to eat, and possibly pass out. Wes…

Well, I was pretty sure that he wouldn't turn down food either. I couldn't imagine anyone turning down my mother's chili… unless they were a vegetarian.

Or allergic to tomatoes.

Okay, I could imagine more than a few reasons for turning down the chili.

I stretched out my arms towards the curved ceiling of the entry tunnel, feeling a few vertebrae that had gotten knocked around during my potato sack experience pop back into place. "This city is weird. Pretty, but weird."

Wes snorted. "Y'should see Gateon Port. It's like visiting another region entirely. Tourists, clubs, and a market for anything you could possibly want."

"Except for the kind of stuff you can only pick up in Pyrite Town."

"Heh. Right."

"Well doesn't this look cozy."

Three slouched figures stood just clear of the colosseum tunnel, blocking the stairway. On paper, they were almost entirely identical to each other, all with shaved heads and the same outfit of black cargo pants and red flak vests over black undershirts, but one would never mistake them for siblings. For one, the one furthest on left had a skull with more lumps than an old potato. The others were a bit closer in general looks, though the rightmost one seemed to have his scowl etched into his face while the 'leader' appeared to be fighting off a permanent smirk.

"Finally caught up with you, you dirty double-crossing rat," the foremost one sneered.

"Wakin," Wes said coolly, "Would have thought you would have been busy today."

"Don't go around thinking you're hot shit just because you can blow up a building! We might be out a headquarters because of you, but don't think we're out of the game just yet!" Wakin's beady eyes slid over to me. "And who's this? Your girlfriend?"

Before either of us could answer, he waved the question off.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that you're going to give me that Snag Machine before somebody needs to get hurt."

"Or we could just hand you your ass in a Pokémon battle," I said, pulling Leven's Pokéball off of my belt and letting it return to proper size in my hand.

Wes looked surprised for a second before grinning. "Now _that_ sounds like a great idea," he said as he produced a Pokéball of his own.

Two beams of red-white light congealed into Leven and an Espeon, who adopted battle poses. This, I noted with a small snort, worked better for Wes's Espeon than my little Rowlet. Wakin's own team consisted of a Corphish and a Koffing, a good balance against our team, because while my Grass-type starter had an advantage over the Water-Type Corphish, its Poison-type teammate was a natural herbicide unless countered by a Steel, Psychic, or Ground-type.

"Leven!" I yelled, pointing at my intended target, "Take the Corphish! Magical Leaf!"

"Zener! Use Confusion on the Koffing!" Wes commanded, as his Espeon fell into a sort of step beneath my Rowlet, their attacks flying in separate directions as Wakin's team fumbled on their initiative.

The Corphish slid back across the granite tiled-walk path, barely avoiding slamming into one of Wakin's human companions. It blinked its big eyes before scuttling back towards the battle, reeling back a fat claw for an attack on Wes's Espeon.

Wakin cringed and then began to yell, "Corphish, use Knock –"

Leven's barrage of Razor Leaves cut the command short as the Water-type fainted with a faint cry of 'heiheiheiiigh…'. Wes gave me a tight nod before directing his Pokemon to finish up the Koffing, which only took one more blast of Confusion to do, sending the Poison-type down to the ground with a wheeze.

"We can beat up the rest of you if that battle went a little too fast for you to follow," Wes said, folding his arms over his chest.

Wakin returned his Pokémon to their balls with a grimace before throwing down a pittance of prize money. "Alright, so you won this time. But don't think we're going to let you keep that Snag Machine, traitor. We'll be back!" The last threat was thrown over his shoulder as the Team Snagem grunts ran off into the city, though any dramatic effect was lost as the unfortunate potato-headed one tripped on the stairs and took the rest of his fellows with him down the rest of the flight.

I let my sigh whistle out between my teeth. "You think that's going to be a regular thing? Because I have an allergy to concentrated levels of stupid. Makes my hand slap my face involuntarily."

Wes didn't respond, instead walking down the stairs, his Espeon trotting at his side.

I jumped up, running a little to catch up with him, Leven flying down to sit on my shoulder. "Hey, you alright?"

He stopped, taking a deep breath. "Look. We both know you're not stupid, Aura-girl. You couldn't have possibly missed that."

Had I not introduced myself? Well, the day had been a bit of a rush.

"About you being the guy who destroyed all of Snagem's autonomous Snag Machines and stealing the one user operated unit?" I waved off the idea that a resident of Pyrite Town would look down on anyone with – god forbid – a seedy history. We didn't give much of a damn unless that person had a dangerous nature to match. "Nah, I got that. Besides, where better to get commercial grade explosives than the defunct mining town?"

"Heh, yeah. Small market for that, these days."

There was barely any mining in Orre anymore. There was still the occasional call for stone, but it was never enough to revive the industry enough to raise Pyrite's reputation from the dust. Most of the equipment was long since repurposed, transformed into something we could actually use; pumps for wells, transport, elevators, electrical generators. Stuff that couldn't be reused, like the explosives, was just packed away to gather dust until some disaster happened or someone recalled its existence in time to 'improvise'.

"Besides, former Snagem member or not, you're my ride home. And if I didn't trust you with that much, I would have pickpocketed your bike's keys and run already," I shrugged, Leven riding my shoulder upwards. "'sides, an irredeemably 'bad guy' wouldn't have been able to evolve an Espeon and an Umbreon."

Wes's Espeon purred in agreement with this statement, rubbing its head up against its master's unarmored hand.

Wes sighed. "…you have no idea," he murmured as he reached up to run his fingers back through his hair. "…fine, might as well get going."

* * *

Despite living in Pyrite Town my all of my life – or all of at least one of my lives – it was strange seeing the brown-shaded town after the gleaming white stone of Phenac City. Maybe it was just the weird adjustment of scale now that I'd seen something bigger than the old mining town, maybe it was that the other, simultaneously older and newer part of me reacting to seeing the town properly from a distance.

Wes's monster slowed near the outskirts, allowing me enough time to jump out of the sidecar and guide him over to my mom's garage, where Zeph's Siryn was parked just inside. As if summoned by the sound of the growling engine, my mother stepped out of the door, her casual manner in wiping her hands off with a rag disintegrating as she saw me waving at her.

To those of you uninformed of such things – including the part of me new to Orre –, a mom can become the fastest land animal if their kid shows any indication that they've done something or gone someplace forbidden. The oil rag hadn't even hit the ground before I felt a vice-like hug close around my waist and pop half a dozen vertebrae that I hadn't even realized were out of place.

"And where the hell have you been, Delaine?" my mom asked in a tone of voice that was just as much loving as it was absolutely terrifying. Considering that I was three inches taller than her and her face was currently buried in my chest, it was quite the feat.

"Uh… Phenac City?" I answered hopefully. "I kinda got kidnapped for a bit…"

"Kidnapped?" The vice tightened and bones other than my vertebrae popped.

"Mom, my organs. I need them."

In my previous life, all I knew about my mom was from second-hand stories and old photos. She'd died when I was four and it hadn't been… it hadn't been a good death. Which didn't stop my dad from demonizing her and gaslighting me with the idea that I'd go 'crazy' like my mom and kill myself. What I did learn, years too late, was that she was a free spirit who cared more for horses and helping people than taking a control-freak's bullshit.

Here, Delora had lived and done pretty damn well for himself, having settled every single battle with my asshole dad using Pokémon and was even cooler than any secondhand tale could tell, though she was a motorcycle mechanic rather than a nurse in this reality. She had a pretty solid team too, a Rapidash, a Mudsdale – considering my past life's lack of knowledge on this one, it was fairly rare besides being from the upcoming generation –, and a Lycanroc that had originally been my dad's only to leave him once he started being a fuck.

If said Lycanroc had an uncanny resemblance to my childhood dog Konah, right down to the nickname, well… I'd just call it a multi-versal coincidence.

"My little girl –"

"Mom, I'm sixteen. That's not exactly little," I wheezed as her grip at least loosened a hair.

"– gets kidnapped and you just brush it off?"

Well, I'd be more concerned if I had stayed kidnapped. "Mom, I got rescued. Squish Wes instead."

My mom's head pulled out of my shoulder to stare at Wes.

I could imagine what she was seeing; a stick thin, emo-looking shit in way too much leather for Orre, currently wearing the classic expression of the deer in the headlights.

"You're coming in for dinner," she declared, disengaging herself from me to lock one of those iron hands around my rescuer's wrist.

"I-uh-"  
"It wasn't a question."

Imagine a five foot three woman with a mousy brown bob, mom jeans, and a leather jacket embroidered with flower patches. Now imagine that woman dragging a circa-2003 edge lord into her house, her victim being infinitely not cool all along the way as he stutters and stumbles over his own feet.

Wes never had a chance.

* * *

My mom bustled around the Pokémon-filled kitchen, while Wes and I sat at the table, I in my infinite smugness and him… Well, Wes acted like he'd never been mom'ed on in his entire life and was suitably awkward and intimidated by the sudden inundation of affection. Me? I had a set of memories that made it common place, allowing the rest of me to bask in the glow.

I grinned at Wes over my second bowl of chili. "S'good chili, innit it?" It was the same that I always made with grandma in the last universe, down to the sweet bite of cocoa hiding between the celery seed and tomato, though I assumed there was a local replacement for the V-8 we usually used as a base.

Wes blinked and nodded. He'd barely touched his, instead staring deep into the infinite depths of beef and beans, even as his own Pokémon chowed down on the generic kibble we gave our own. It was an odd look for his face, suited for pensive expression and daredevil grins.

Mom had listened to the story with riveted attention, interjecting at the appropriate parts – "Nobody noticed you getting kidnapped in front of the PokéCenter? Oh, this town really is going to hell." – as we progressed through the telling, though Wes did get a sharp look at his familiarity with Snagem agents.

"…I used to run with Wakin," he said flatly, "didn't care for where him and his friends are going, so I dropped them."

How recently this 'dropping' went down was unspecified, though my mom didn't push him on it as she finally stood up and suggested that Wes stay for the night. "The hotel isn't that great, for all they charge overnight. Two meals, a tune-up, and a place to lay your head is the least I could do for the boy who saved my little girl from thugs."

Konah whined at the reminder, nosing my side. He'd probably wished he'd come with me, but… well, I had no good reason for him not to be part of my party, except for maybe wanting mom to have a Pokémon around that could actually fit inside the house without breaking everything.

Yeah, no, this was the better place for him. I smiled at the Lycanroc as I scratched him behind his ear. It gave a happy whine before following my mom out of the room.

"So yeah, those Shadow Pokémon. How you wanna deal with that?" I asked Wes, folding my hands up under my chin.

Wes's expression focused. "Why are you asking me?"

I ran my hands backwards through my hair, letting my forehead swing down towards the table. "Okay, worst way to open up, but you have the most experience stealing Pokémon out of the two of us and I imagine there will be some people who aren't exactly interested in giving up a living fighting machine they can shove in their pocket."

Wes folded his arms over in front of his chest and his Pokémon took on similarly disapproving poses. "So you want me to steal Pokémon for you? Special Pokémon that only you can pick out," he added with a slight touch of acid to his voice.

That was a minor sticking point wasn't it? How did you prove the existence of something that could not be seen, touched, or heard? How did you convince someone to pick up something they'd rather leave in their past for something they couldn't even confirm the existence of?

I sighed. "Alright. You don't believe in Aura. That's fair. It's hard to believe in something you haven't seen," I lifted up a finger to stop anything he could add to that. "Which is why I'm going to take you to Agate Village and introduce you to someone who can show you."

"And you can't?"

"Me? I'm barely an adept. I've got the sight, but…" I swished my hand through the air for a little bit, making a spark of blue white light dance between my fingers as I flexed my Aura. It wasn't enough to properly call a display, especially with how Wes completely failed to notice it. "–none of the big show material. That why you need to talk to Eagun."

Wes blinked, "The Myth Runner? That old kook?"

"He's got other titles and he's not a kook," I snapped. "Ho-Oh and Celebi are very real, just like every other Legendary, they're just rare as hell. Heck, some people used to think that Legendaries were one-offs, but then someone got lucky enough to see two Lugia on one place. Eagun also happens to be the only Aura Guardian in Orre."

"Let me guess; he's your teacher."  
I snorted. "Naw, I didn't have time for that, what with helping mom around the shop and all that. If I had taken him up when he asked, I'd be able to do a _lot_ more than read everyone's mood and use my finger like a flashlight."

Wes blinked again, this time focusing on my hand. "Uh…"

Calming myself, I focused my Aura into my finger, smiling as the white-blue flame materialized around the tip. For all the size of the display, it was exhausting getting my emotional state and internal power to calm down enough to create a stable and usable Aura flame. Sure, I could probably manage a burst, but this was the training exercise that Eagun had given the local me years ago, so I stuck with it.

Usually, it was easier than this though. Maybe my new 'nature' was interfering with my control, like my emotional state. Half of me had discipline while the rest was coming in fresh and uninitiated, it wasn't exactly surprising. Either way, Eagun would still be disappointed with the apparent slipback.

Wes leaned forward, as if hypnotized by the flickering light, and slowly stretched out his own finger to touch it.

"It's warm… and cool at the same time," he said in surprise. "That's Aura?"

I let the flame go – was it wrong that my soul sighed with relief? – and pulled my hand away from Wes's. "Yeah, but that's about where I tap out, I'm afraid. Can't even light a cigarette."

He stayed frozen, watching a light that wasn't there anymore.

"Did I break you?" I asked.

"…maybe," he whispered, pulling back his hand to stare at it, as if it was going to catch fire any moment now. "You think you know what kind of world you live in…"

Oh-ho whooo boy, could I write an entire novel on that one. I smiled. "So are you willing to put away a little bit of that skepticism so I can introduce you to a professional? Who knows, maybe he'll know something about the Shadow Pokémon, too."

I stood up and reached over to pat him on the shoulder as I walked by towards my room.

"Rest up; it's a long drive to Agate Village."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

* * *

 **Yes, it was probably Sleep Powder that Folly and Trudy used on Delaine, harvested from Vileplume or other Grass-types/Bug-types familiar with the move. More effective than chloroform at any rate. Delaine wouldn't be over familiar with it, one part of her being from a universe where it doesn't exist outside of games, and the other part being from Orre, where there's not a lot of Pokémon (as in almost no wild Pokémon and the main number of species trained being those that can survive the mostly desert environment) and no real place outside of the Pre-Gym in Phenac to learn about those sort of things.**

 **Okay, those of you intimately familiar with the Orre games (… how many would that be?) might have noticed that there are some altered names. This is because… well, I want to. So long as they're still recognizable, I don't see the problem. There are some original characters to flesh out the rather sparse population (Zeph is merely the first visible one that we've met so far, outside of Delora).**

 **On the subject of Pokémon nicknames, I try to pick meeting at least two out of three criteria; cool, fitting, and half-way believable, and all need to be pronounceable. While not all of them are references, (like Mire the Quagsire, which meets the 'believable' and 'fitting' marks – a mire is (literally) a swamp or (less literally) a mess), a few of them are definitely that.**

 **Trainers who are not particularly attached to their Pokémon aren't likely to nickname them (though Mire would be an example of a Pokémon that started out beloved but slowly lost that affection, through no fault of its own), but I'm not going to give nicknames to all the Pokémon we see in the story either. Information will appear as relevant.**

 **Leven the Rowlet is named after the Eleventh Doctor, mostly on account of the bowtie and the fact that Dartrix (the first evolution) has the exact same flippy hair to go with the bowtie. Doesn't quite fit its final evolution, but that's the sad nature of nicknames sometimes; we grow out of them.**

 **Zener the Espeon is named after Zener Cards, most commonly known as ESP cards, one of the methods of testing extrasensory (psychic) abilities. A little more intellectual, but I think it's cool.**

 **Konah the Lycanroc is named after my childhood dog, one of very few dogs that I've never been scared of. Originally, this chapter featured Konah as a Mightyana, but I decided after some reading that Konah leaving Delaine's dad on account of his poor behavior was more likely for a Lycanroc, so I decided to lean away from the outward appearance and go with the behavioral resemblance. Konah the Lycanroc might be a partially melanistic or simply black/white coloration of the breed (since I did a similar thing with one of the shiny Pichu in chapter three).  
**

 **Events are going a little differently than in the game, but I'm just writing as feels natural.**


	3. Chapter 3

Agate Village was probably the only village parked on the only slice of green Orre had. West of Mount Battle, whatever made the desert a dry, desolate stretch for some reason didn't apply. There were theories about that, all of them different scenarios for cataclysm. Extreme drought, meteor strike, the disfavor of the gods…

Well, they'd found enough in the way of ancient ruins to figure that Orre probably hadn't always been a barren sandy hole.

What was known for a fact was, despite being relatively loaded with Pokémon compared to the slim pickings of the rest of the region, no humans really lived there in the green slice, Agate Village being the exception.

Despite being – at least in my assumption – widely travelled, Wes seemed bewildered by the fact that the world could be so overwhelmingly green.

He kept tracing his hands down the trunks of trees as we walked the narrow forest path towards Agate Village as if this was a dream that could disintegrate at any moment. Motorcycles were forbidden at the edge of the green, due to both the narrowness of the path and out of respect for nature, so Wes's bike had been left at a rest stop on the edge of the sand, leaving us to walk the rest of the way to our destination.

It was cool, seeing wild Pokémon darting through the woods, though they were all common types such as Sentret, Pidgey, and Caterpie. You could almost pretend that you were walking through Johto's Ilex Forest rather than Orre's nameless sea of green.

The trail started changing, turning from the simple dirt of a footpath into something wider and sparsely paved, smooth stones crawling up from the dust as we drew nearer to our destination. By the time the path was proper cobblestone, we'd have thirty seconds before our first clear view of Agate Village.

As the town-in-population-size-only finally revealed itself, Wes ground to a stop.

I stretched out my arms over my head, listening to my shoulder joints pop before looking over to Wes. "Pretty ace, huh?" I asked with a grin.

Wes swallowed, still staring at the town he'd apparently only ever heard about in vague description. "Uh… yeah."

Agate Village was the sort of place that you normally only found in storybooks and dreams, recalling the ancient ruins of Angkor and Machu Picchu of my last universe. The stone buildings were obviously ancient, held together as much by modern restoration as the roots of the trees that grew around them. Water flowed from the mountain waterfalls, through canals and fountains infinitely older and less ostentatious than those of Phenac City before slipping back into the natural streams that fed into the wilder forest. Inside the sheer stone cliff beneath the waterfall, there were steps, carved out by long-gone hands which lead to other areas. Amphitheaters, astronomical circles, and a number of shrines to various gods and Legendaries, all in various states of ruin and use.

I'd explored most of it, when I was younger and spent half my days following Eagun around in an attempt to understand Aura. The Unknown hieroglyphics had always stuck in my mind, even before I understood what those little letters were capable of in the right numbers. I'd learned the constellations from the roof of temples dedicated to Rayquaza, imagining the distant form of the legendary twisting between the streaks of a meteor shower.

How this city, this ancient merger of cold stone and living green that withstood greater ages than men would ever know, didn't seem to appeal to anyone under the age of fifty was beyond me. Maybe young people just like the taste of sand.

I took a lungful of the moist air and sighed in contentment before pulling on Wes's arm. Now was not the time to get nostalgic, not when there was a vitally important quest at hand. "Okay, reattach your jaw and let's get going. We got places to be and the view's been here for the last millennium; it ain't going anywhere."

* * *

Eagun's house was as I remembered it. It was small and homey, filled with the sort of things one accumulates through many travels; hand-woven blankets, trinkets – I could see a little hula girl-styled Pichu statue with a tiny blue ukulele sitting between a self-balancing surfing Pikachu and a Raichu wearing a flower lei reclining on a beach chair with a tiny margarita in its paw –, and pictures decorated the walls. Books filled every available shelf and bleed out into piles of texts, and very little of the furniture matched in style or color.

That didn't keep Wes from looking incredibly out of place, perched as he was on a floral settee, a small clay tea cup held in his hands and his Espeon sitting primly at his feet while the Umbreon had a staring contest with a Pichu with a spiky left ear. More Pichu napped in a pet tower, one Pikachu yellow and the other a creamy albino unlike any Shiny I'd ever seen in the games.

"You can imagine my surprise when your mom called saying you were coming out for a visit," Beluh said as she sat down in her chair, the spiky-eared Pichu bouncing over to sit on top of the backrest.

She was slightly younger than Eagun, though they were at the age where the difference of a couple years was splitting hairs. Technically speaking, she wasn't my grandmother, but given the absence of a paternal set and my Aura training, she might as well have earned the designation.

I blew on my own tea. "Well, I've got an ulterior motive, Gramma B, so that's part of it."

"Oh? This wasn't about introducing us to your boyfriend?"

Wes sprayed tea all over the front of his coat and Leven chuffed from his position on the back of my chair.

I snorted. "That is so not my area and you know it, Gramma. Just a friend, but he is tied up with what I came to talk to Eagun about." I tapped a fingernail on the clay tea cup. "Where is Gramp E, anyway?"

"Tending to the forest shrine with Rui, though he should have been back a half-hour ago. You know how he feels about Celebi," she said with a small laugh, shaking her head. "I wonder if I should be jealous."

"Yes, Gramma, envy the 'Onion Fairy'. Two feet tall, semi-immortal, and possessed of the perfect eyeliner," I said as I reached over to scratch the albino Pichu between its ears. It half-opened its eyes – a pinky-ruby color that seemed to lack pupils entirely – before deciding that I wasn't worth fussing over and dropping back into the land of nod.

"Irreverence has always been your Secret Power, hasn't it, Delaine?"

I just smiled even as the word 'probably' crossed my mind. "So how's Rui doing?" I asked. The redhead girl was a few years younger than me and a lot more idealistic, though that wasn't a hard quality to outdo a Pyrite Town local with. Most of my contact with her had been during Eagun's Aura lessons and she'd shown herself a dab hand with a subject I struggled with.

Maybe it was talent, like this universe's me had always assumed with a hint of annoyance, but I now suspected it was because her life was relatively uncomplicated compared to mine. This theory seemed to fit better with the sudden dip in my abilities corresponding with the difficulty spike of my own existence.

"Oh, she's doing well," Beluh said with a pleased sigh, "Got a starter for her a few years ago, she'll probably be evolving it any day now."

While I'd had my Rowlet since I was eleven and hadn't managed – I stamped down hard on the old jealousy. I was an adult, not a twelve year old. Leven would evolve when it was the right time. "A Pichu? Gramp E's always been partial to the electric mouse breed…"

The spiky eared Pichu stuck its tongue out as Beluh shook her head. "No, Rui's starter is something else..."

I gave her a rueful smile. "Not going to give me any spoilers?"

"You'll have to battle her to find out," the old woman said before winking. "That is, if she doesn't want to show off her partner to her 'cousin'."

Wes and his Pokémon were looking at the albino Pichu now, leaning over to get a better look at the tiny little Pokémon. It _was_ an unusual specimen, having dull gold where most Pichu had black and being a dusty white everywhere else. The games should have had more Shinies like it, rather than the minute shifts of hue – or god forbid, puke-y green – that some Shiny Pokémon got. A shock-white Espeon with pink-red eyes would have been infinitely more awesome than having your Shiny Eevee evolve into… a green cat thing.

Well, it was important to love your Pokémon for what they were, not how they looked… even if some where undeniably cooler than others in the visual department.

"Yes, that's one of the odd ones," Beluh said. "Doesn't act any different from the other Pichu… well, maybe a little sleepier, but it's a recent hatch and Eagun's been keeping an eye on it anyway."

All part of being a breeder, I guess. How Eagun found enough time in the day to be an armchair archeologist, Aura Guardian, and Pokémon trainer/breeder was beyond me. Maybe the local Celebi liked doing favors for its number one fan.

Wes gave a thankfully not Pichu-themed clock on the wall a stealthy look over the edge of his mug. "Do you think we should go check on Eagun? Maybe something came up."

"Oh, do you think so?" Beluh asked, a worried look aging her face. "He's not getting any younger, certainly, but he has his Pokémon and Rui with him…"

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to check. Besides, I kind of wanted to visit the shrine today anyway. Two birds, one stone." I said, rising quickly as I placed my still full cup of tea back on the table. There was no reason for Eagun to be this late, not without any news, and if I remembered the wiki right… well, we might as well run. Wes followed my lead, though he gave a small bow to Beluh before we exited.

"Hm? Birds?" Beluh's voice echoed as we ran down the shadowed path towards the Celebi shrine.

* * *

I tried to open my Aura sense to track down Eagun and Rui faster, but the sheer noise of the forest forced me to shut it down right away. Too loud with too many disharmonies, and not enough time to sort through them. Some of them were pleasant enough, but when the entire experience was like listening to a thousand minor conversations playing all at once and turned up to deafening volumes, the occasional 'pleasant' didn't do much to cut the pain.

Still, there were other signs that shit was far from kosher.

The trees showed signs of damage; broken branches, shredded leaves, freshly torn bark… nothing that any of the locals would willingly do to the forest. More obviously, there were tracks. Heavy boots were uncommon for the town, the strange and almost insectoid prints could be attributed to Pokémon, but the tire tracks… no. There was an outside party, one that didn't care about the forest at all. Only about the end goal.

And considering there were only two points of interest out this way, that meant the target was either the Memori Stone or its guardian, Celebi.

The sound of crashing and creaking came from up ahead, along with the muffled sounds of shouted demands.

"How are you off-road?" I asked Wes.

"This is the first day I've ever seen a tree."

I'll take that as a 'terrible, don't even try to make me'. I grimaced. "Just… step softly and follow my lead," I said as I pulled him off the road and into the bushes, his Pokémon darting at our heels while Leven swooped silent and almost invisible amongst the leaves above. While a snapped branch underfoot probably wouldn't stand out too much in all the racket that Team – Cipher, Snagem, or someone else? – Whatever was making, it still wasn't something I was aiming to experience.

Slinking through the bushes, I tried to open my Aura senses again. While the storm of chatter was less now, there was still an almost oppressive sensation of discordant noise. The bad guys were easy to feel out; thorny, direct, and unsympathetic to everything around them. Eagun and Rui were both stressed, though Eagun's was tempered by steely will.

As we drew nearer to the clearing, I stopped and slid behind a tree. I knew those uniforms and that armor. And the guy at the head of it all, though I hadn't expected him.

"Snagem?" Wes whispered.

I shook my head. "Cipher."

There were at least six of them, including the Iron Masked Marauder, but I didn't care much about Cipher peons. My worry was on Rui and Eagun, who were cornered near the shrine. The old man had been roughed up and though Rui didn't look like she'd been touched, I hated to leave them in this situation any longer than I had to.

But how to go about it? At least half of the enemy party had to be trainers and we had three Pokemon between us. Given, we might be able to beat those odds, but it was a long shot and I knew it.

Wes's eyes went wide before he took a look himself. When he looked back to me, his eyes were flinty. "And they've got Vicious with them," he growled.

Oh, so you've met.

Vicious looked much like he had in the Celebi movie; tall and muscular with a bristly Mohawk and beard, his face was covered by a gold, red, and black visor. His outfit was different, with a blood red flak jacket and black combat cargo pants replacing the skintight black jumpsuit and clear Team Rocket motifs I dully recalled.

With the smug smirk on his face as he paced in front of his hostages, he looked very punchable.

"Now, while I can appreciate the logistical _nightmare_ of trying to track down a time travelling Psychic/Grass-type Pokémon in a wild forest the size of god, you'd think this would be a very easy question…" he said as he twisted on his heel, the steel toe scraping against the stone in front of the shrine, "Where's the Memori Stone?"

"What concern is it to you? I don't imagine you're here to pay your _respects_ ," Eagun spat, even as Rui shivered at his side. "I know your type. Pokémon are your tools, not partners worthy of love and respect."

"You're right," Vicious said, his smirk spreading into a wide grin, "Absolutely right. And you know what? I don't really care. They make excellent tools. Oh, we humans are great at building machines and traps, but if you really want something done, you need a Pokémon to do it. Besides…"

He tossed a black Pokéball up and down in his hand. There was something in the design that reminded me of Wes's Snag Machine, an alien texturing that served an odd contrast against the smooth surface of a normal Pokéball.

The Pokémon poacher's grin split further into something that fit the name of the man who wore it.

"…there's nothing like a Hyper Beam to make a point."

The Dark Ball opened, a burst of black light congealing into a massive form behind him. The Tyranitar roared, the Aura of a Shadow Pokémon thick on the air around it.

… I don't think we're in the right weight class for this rescue mission. Not without an assload of cheating, though I didn't imagine a poacher would have much of a position to be calling us out on it.

"Does your Espeon know Helping Hand?" I asked Wes.

"Yeah?"

"Psychic doesn't work on Dark-type and Dark resists itself," I explained quickly. My almost-encyclopedic knowledge of Pokémon type advantages was finally proving a relevant skill. "Tyranitar is Rock/Dark. Ideally, we'd use a Fighting-type, but neither of us have one, so we're going to need to use Leven… my Rowlet's Grass-type moves to best effect. Get your Umbreon to play tank and Zener to play support… we might be able to win."

Wes nodded. "Chaya knows Protect, so it should work. Bit more strategic than I usually have to play, but it sounds like a plan."

"Well, how many fucking Tyranitar have you had to battle?" I snapped as quietly as I could. Christ, that thing was massive. Not even close to Godzilla-big – thank god – but still not a Pokémon I'd want to have a disagreement with, even on a good day. "Well, there's a reason why people call them 'Semi-Legendary'. This one's a Shadow Pokémon on top of that and we only have three Pokémon between us. We are almost certainly fucked if we don't fight smarter."

"You think we could avoid the fight by snagging it now?" he asked, adjusting the gauntlet of the Snag Machine.

"Without softening it up first?" At Wes's grimace, I shook my head. "Larvitar are a bitch to catch wild, top of that evolutionary chain is going to be a motherfucker to catch at full piss and vinegar." I motioned to Leven perched in the branches up above us. "Wes, get ready to snag it the moment it gives a stumble."

He didn't get much of a chance to react further than passing me two Pokéballs before two Eeveelutions ran out of the bush and my starter on wing above them, a boosted Magical Leaf already flying to cut into the Tyranitar's hide. The armored Pokémon howled, turning to look down at the tiny little Pokémon that had dared try to bring it down.

"Use Hyper Beam!" Vicious ordered and golden light pooled in the Tyranitar's open mouth before homing in on Leven and Zener.

Wes's Umbreon jumped in front of them, a murky green shield of Aura flashing into existence the moment the attack would have reduced the other two Pokémon to smears.

"Uuuuwaaaah!" it sang almost tauntingly at its opponent.

"Sskkkwwuugweeaaaaaargh!" the Tyranitar screeched, lumbering forward to swipe at the smaller Pokémon, all of which leapt out of reach easily.

"Dammit, where did those Pokémon come from?" one of the Cipher grunts yelled, jumping further out of the battle's range as another attack scored into the Shadow Pokémon. "Wild Pokémon aren't supposed to be this coordinated!"

"That's because they aren't wild, you moron!" Vicious yelled, whirling around to glare into the trees. "There's a trainer hiding around here somewhere!"

I picked up a handful of old seeds and climbed up the tree I was hiding behind before throwing one as hard as I could at a Cipher peon's head.

"Ow!"

I jumped over to another tree, throwing another seed at another grunt. And another and another…

"Ah!"

"Ugh!"

"Oi! That hurts!"

The Tyranitar screamed again as another Helping Hand-boosted Magical Leaf cut through its thick hide. I flinched back as the tree I was going to jump to abruptly ceased to exist in a blast of golden light.  
"Come out, you little shit!" Vicious roared. "Are you too scared to show your face? Too frightened of my power?"

Well, what sort of response could that justify?

"Thou coward!" I spat back, falling onto a theatric accent that I'd last used in a classroom reading of A Midsummers Night's Dream as I bounced along the branches, "Art thou bragging to the stars? Telling the bushes thou look'st for wars? And wilt not come? Come recreant, come, thou child; I'll whip you with a rod! He is defiled who draws a sword on thee!"

Pay attention to me. Don't give your war machine the brains needed to win its fight. Pay no attention to the Snag Machine behind the curtain.

"Who are you?!"

"Either you mistake my shape and making quite, king of shadow, or else I am that shrewd and knavish sprite call'd Robin Goodfellow!" I said mockingly, "Am I not he that frightens maidens of the villagery? Thou knowest this right; I am that wanderer of the night!"

It wasn't the best recital of Shakespeare, but I imagined the bard wouldn't be offended for the means my poor crib was put to use.

Something thumped against the tree I was crouched in and the Tyranitar roared again, but this roar was different. Less angry, more… triumphant.

That couldn't be good.

I peeked out and almost fell out of the tree in shock. Wes's Umbreon Chaya was curled at the base of the trunk, eyes closed and unmoving. Without hesitating, I jumped down and pulled a Potion from my pack, spraying the worst of the wounds I could see before recalling it to its ball.

Shit, shit, shit, shit. The strategy was falling apart, and it was only a matter of time before the Tyranitar knocked Zener or Leven out of the battle now, perhaps ending their resistance permanently.

"I noticed you aren't talking now, Robin!" Vicious's voice rang through the forest. "Upset that my Tyranitar demolished your little Umbreon? Such sentiment is unbecoming, but you're the sort of bleeding heart that doesn't stand for cruelty or domination, so I can't say I expected much."

My lip curled into a sneer as I tucked the borrowed Pokéball away and ran towards the battle. Piece of shit didn't deserve to take pride in the strength of his Pokémon. Wasn't like he earned it, wasn't like he'd tended the Tyranitar's wounds after a fierce battle, wasn't like he cared about it at all before it became a useful 'tool'.

The Tyranitar roared again and there was a screech as a pale purple shape flew towards the trunk of an especially thick tree. I recalled Zener before it could hit and glared at the Shadow Pokémon. Leven had come to a light landing in front of me, giving me a grateful glance before turning its attention back to its massive opponent.

Dammit. I couldn't retreat. Surrender wasn't an option either. And it was only a matter of seconds before the Tyranitar squeezed off another Hyper Beam. Maybe Wes would come in and save us with a timely snag, but I doubted it.

"Leven!" I yelled, "give it all you got!"

The Rowlet seemed to glow for a moment before the luminous ghost of a tree suddenly exploded around it, phantom roots whipping out to stab into the earth as the forest gained a coat of glowing flowers of every possible color, every single one pointed towards Leven's opponent.

The Tyranitar got two seconds of shocked stupor before star bright flowers started exploding all around it before congealing into a massive orange blossom, the single herald of what had to be some kind of supercharged Solar Beam that slammed its unfortunate target five feet into the forest floor.  
Before Vicious could think to recall it, a Pokéball flew out of the forest, bouncing once on the fallen Shadow Pokémon's head before capturing it after a single shake.

In the silence, everyone stared at the tiny owl Pokémon that just destroyed a discount Godzilla. To be fair, Leven looked fairly surprised at this turn of events as well.

"Holy shit."

* * *

 **Author Notes**

* * *

 **Hhhhhh. Okay, this chapter is a bit shorter, but besides the way the pacing turned out and the fact that I've been contending with ten stitches in my knee since the 26th, which is doing absolutely nothing for my sleep schedule. I'm not going to throw any more filler at it.**

 **At least I'm going to get the stitches out tomorrow, even if I will probably have to keep taking these antibiotic pills the size of god.**

 **I hate taking pills.**

 **Anyway;**

 **Memori Stone = Relic Stone; aka the Purification Method for Pokémon Colosseum. Changed the name to be a play on 'memory' and 'mori' meaning forest.**

 **The Celebi Movie = Pokémon 4Ever. It's… okay. I liked it better when I was a kid and, while I understand it hasn't aged particularly well, there's still a place for it in my heart. Because Celebi's cute and Tyranitar is awesome. The Iron Masked Marauder was the dub name of the villain, while Vicious was the original edition. Delaine (using that name in third person is incredibly surreal) is more familiar with the former, while the latter is canon within this fic.**

 **The thing that Leven did was Bloom Doom, the Z-move that Rowlet showed off for the Sun and Moon teasers. Delaine had no idea that this was a thing and so everyone was rather surprised. Holy shit, indeed.**

 **Chaya the Umbreon – named after Chhaya, the Hindu goddess of shadow and consort of the sun. Also from the Hebrew word for 'life', but I also wanted something that would sound good in contrast with Zener.**

 **We've got at least one more Celebi based chapter, if not one after that (I don't plot, I barely plan, and I make lots of promises I can't keep).**

 **As always comments and criticism are welcome.**


	4. Chapter 4

" _Holy shit."_

Breaking out of my trance, I ran forward, scooping up the Pokéball. Nothing would be more pointless than losing the Snag to a blue screen moment. My Rowlet had given me one hell of a reason to change his nickname from 'Leven' to 'Archimedes', but that was something to think about later.

The battle had been way too close. But the odds had fallen on our side somehow, because Leven had pulled Gaia's Solar Beam out of his fluffy little butt, and the Tyranitar was now tucked away into a deceptively innocent looking ball that I now held in faintly shivering hands.

How would I even go about purifying it? Would the Tyranitar even listen to me? Was I even remotely qualified to give a Pokémon that probably weighed the better half of a ton and could shout laser beams out of both ends therapy?

Wes ran out of the brush, falling to his knees beside me. "How are Zener and Chaya?"

"Used a Potion on Chaya before recalling them," I got out after a second of getting reacquainted with the workings my jaw, "Returned Zener before they got the worst of that attack. Would not have been good to hit that tree. They might have another battle left in them, don't know for sure."

Wes nodded tightly. "Couldn't have asked for more against _that_."

Yeah, that battle could and would have been a complete and utter curbstomp had some kindly overdeity – Arceus or my 'patron'? – decided a little divine intervention was in order.

"Well, well, well… Wes. Thought you were still running with Snagem, but if you had a job, you wouldn't be getting underfoot like this," Vicious said, dragging my brain back to the fact that – oh yeah – we're still in the shit. The poacher cracked his knuckles and jerked his head to the side as he strode towards us, eliciting the same sickening noise from his neck, "So we're competing for the same prize. Would think you'd have better tastes in sidekicks than twitchy teenage girls, but what do I know?"

Leven hopped back over to me, wings spread out like a shield as he hissed at the man who would dare threaten his trainer. This intimidation display, I thought numbly, would have worked better had Leven not been a foot tall, three pound, perfectly round ball of feathers with eyes and a beak.

Given, the fact that said foot-tall, three pound, perfectly found ball of feathers just called down an orbital strike on a Tyranitar not even five minutes ago probably countered the appearance of utter adorableness.

Vicious stopped short, giving the owl Pokémon an appraising look. "If I took you for a fellow acquirer and dealer, I would have offered good money for that little monster. Stealth and firepower are such a wonderful combination."

I remembered the old idiom 'if looks could kill', because if my eyes had that kind of power, Vicious would have been a pincushion in the style of Asuka Langley Soryu.

"Like hell I'm handing my starter over to a Cipher _goon_ ," I spat.

Vicious grinned as he pulled two of his eldritch Pokéballs from his flak jacket, letting them grow to full size in his hands. "I prefer the term 'capture consultant'."

What Pokémon had Vicious had in the movie? A Scizor and a Sneazel, I think. Maybe a Houndoom.  
All were type-combos ideal for hunting down a Celebi. And my already battle-exhausted Rowlet shared a Grass-typing with their intended target, without a single Pokémon in any condition to back him up.

In short, we were fucked.

"Stop!"

My head jerked around to stare at Rui. She was standing now, a fierce look in her eye despite the tremor in her knees. In her hand, she held a Pokéball.

"Agents of Cipher! You don't get to defile this forest any longer!" Rui declared, with the exact sort of tone I'd previously associated with certain celestial sailor senshi.

One of the peons 'snrk'ed. "And what are you going to do? Throw a Togepi at us?"

Rui threw the Pokeball, the red beam of light arcing out to reveal – I blinked at the sight of Rui's starter. Oh, that's just not fair. Cute as hell, but not even kind of close to fair.

"RiiooooooruuU!" Rui's Riolu howled before shifting into a fighting stance. It might not have come up much further than Rui's waist, but any Fighting-type was capable of delivering the kind of sheer physical damage that disregarded all kinds of armor and ego.

Didn't go far against Ghosts, mind, but I doubted any of the Cipher peons present had any of those hanging around.

Vicious paused for a second, almost as if he was considering his chances now that he'd lost his type-advantage. Fighting-type spanked Dark, Ice, and Steel, and while Scizor's Bug-type played well against it, my Rowlet had an advantage over that.

"Tactical retreat, squad," Vicious ordered. The Cipher peons loaded up into their jeep quickly before revving its engine. "I'll find the Memori Stone and Celebi," the poacher promised as he jumped up on the vehicle, "and we will continue this… conversation."

With that parting shot, the jeep raced away into the forest, carrying the threat of a losing battle away with it while leaving the larger problem of – oh yeah – the highly probable corruption of a Legendary and destruction of the only means of purifying any Shadow Pokémon we snagged.

I punched the ground. "Dammit."

"Delaine! Are you alright?" Rui asked as she ran over, "What was wrong with that Tyranitar? How did you–"

"Rui, one question at a time," Eagun said. He shook his head, his long white hair waving with the motion. "And those questions can wait until after we get Delaine and her friend's Pokémon to the PokéCenter." He reached down a hand to help me up to my feet.

* * *

Later in Eagun's house, our Pokémon healed and stored away in their Pokéballs, the story slowly spilled out over tea. The kidnapping, the Shadow Pokémon, Wes's involvement, the reason why Vicious had come to the nameless sea of green…

"If he's looking for the Memori Stone, he's going to be a long time searching without a guide. There were only five people who know where it is and we kept its exact location a secret for a reason," Eagun murmured around his pipe. I'd never seen it lit, but it was rarely far from his person, completing the image of a feudal village elder. Long silver hair, sweeping robes in far too many layers for me to puzzle out, and a steady expression… it was odd to think of Eagun as anything but ancient, like the city he lived in and studied.

He studied the depths of his cup, letting the silence grow before speaking again.

"There are reasons why nobody goes into that forest. It's not just a place for Pokémon… it's a place for the dead. Even I couldn't tell you how many corpses are in those woods. It doesn't matter if they go in willingly or not… out of hundreds who go beyond the paths, only a handful come out."

I hadn't known that. Eagun had never let me or Rui wander far during our lessons. Every journey was along well-worn paths, always at Eagun's back. The idea of bodies, just rotting amongst the trees and the bushes…

It reminded me of Aokigahara.

My hands clenched around my cup – I caught Rui's surprised stare as my knuckles and the clay both cracked –, but it was Wes who said what I was thinking.

"We can't rely on that to keep Vicious away from Celebi," he said, his eyes tight and flinty, "He's been doing wilderness captures for years and 'quitting' isn't in his playbook. Not when he has a fat paycheck waiting on delivery. He'll feed as many of his people to the grinder as it takes to get what he wants."

"Which is why we need to stop him," I said, "before he can hurt Celebi or any other Pokémon."

This solemn pronunciation might have been somewhat undercut by the spiky eared Pichu that had climbed up to sit in my apocalyptically messy hat hair and was currently chewing on a particularly uppity section.

Eagun watched me quietly for a minute. "Hm. You've changed, Delaine," he muttered around the stem of his pipe, "Very well. I'll be joining you. It's one thing to allow you to go after a dangerous criminal, but to run blindly into that forest without any idea of where you're going."

"Never mind that Delora would make me a widow if you did that," Beluh added before snapping her fingers. "Oh yes, I just remembered. Delaine, I have a present for you."

"Is this really the time for presents?"

I shushed Wes before turning to look back at Beluh. "Is it fragile? Because we're kind of going off-road for a while…"

Beluh waved off my concern. "Oh, it's hardly that fragile. Still shouldn't drop it, mind…" she murmured as she disappeared into a room I recognized as Eagun's egg hatchery. I twisted around to mouth 'You're giving me a Pichu?' at Eagun, who shook his head. A small smile played along the edges of his lips, like this was merely the set up to a great joke.

I could feel question marks popping above my head. Well, if it wasn't a Pichu egg, what was it? Oh god, I hope it's not a fruit cake. Or a Wooper.

Beluh reappeared, holding an old dented egg case in her arms. Inside was a black and blue egg with grey speckling. Definitely not a Pichu egg, I decided, though it could still theoretically be a Wooper egg. Or maybe something else. Something better. Like a Riolu.

Heh, wouldn't that be something.

"Here," she said as she handed it to me, "Now, I know that you've never taken care of a Pokémon egg on your own, but I think I can trust you to be responsible."

"Gramma B, we're going after criminals into a dangerous forest, I don't think…"

"You'll be fine," she said, waving my words off. "Now, go; save Celebi. And try not to get hurt while you're out there."

I sighed as I stood up, brushing the Pichu off of my head, "Got it. Don't die, stop the bad guys, save the Pokémon, and don't drop the egg. Easy peasy."

"No harder than stealing a Snag Machine and blowing up Snagem's HQ," Wes said, rolling his armored shoulder.

Eagun nodded. "I've been on infinitely more complicated adventures though, mind, I usually had more friends on my side and less of a sword hanging over my head should we have failed."

While not as grandly spoken as those words that led to the Fellowship of the Ring, it felt right. Like the pieces of something bigger than me sliding into place.

"Uh, I'mcomingtoo," a small voice cut in.

We all turned to stare at Rui, who in turn was staring at her feet.

She was fourteen and not the confident sort of fourteen. No, she looked even younger than that, wearing two high ponytails and her fleece-lined jean jacket over a faded denim skirt and battered knee high boots.

"Uh."

Rui's hands clenched. "I'm going to help! I was worse than useless earlier today and I won't stand for it! I'm supposed to be the next Aura Guardian of this village and the forest, I can't just cave and quiver until someone comes to save me!" she yelled. "I've got Rio and Wattson and that means I'm a serious trainer now! I can't hide behind Grampa every time I get scared! And if Orre's Pokémon are in trouble, it's my job to help them!"

She was breathing heavily, staring at all of us as if challenging anyone to say 'no' after that speech.

I, for one, couldn't. Wasn't that why I was doing this? Because nobody else could? Because with great power, came great responsibility? I mean the fact that I didn't know who or what the fuck 'Wattson' was stuck in my craw a little, but that would probably be a question that would get answered at some point. Hopefully.

"Alright," Eagun said. "Wasn't any need to yell, I'm not deaf yet, but I heard you."

And that's how Rui joined the party. Dee-de-de-DEEEEE.

* * *

Following Eagun through the forest, it was easy to see how people could get lost and die in such numbers here. The trees that toward above us were rarely more than six feet apart from each other, coiling clusters roots tangled across the rolling forest floor in nature's ideal trip trap, and the leaves above blocked almost every speck of sky that could be possibly used to navigate.

This world was green, gold, grey, and not built for man's convenience.

The Pokémon that lived here had no issue – I could catch glimpses of various species flitting around the canopy and the brush, but barely ever enough for a clear identification – but to humans, this was as close as one could get to stepping into an alien world.

Rui had insisted on joining us and despite any misgivings about her relative lack of experience, I was loath to turn her away. Her Riolu offered a type advantage over just about everything Vicious could throw at us, besides rounding out the Dark, Psychic, and Flying-types we had on us already. The fact that the spiky eared Pichu was also apparently hers, only served to boost our numbers further.

In all, we had Wes's Espeon and Umbreon, Rui's Riolu and Pichu, Eagun's high-leveled Raichu, and my Rowlet and Shadow Tyranitar.

The egg I'd been given didn't count, because even if it hatched in the next five seconds, I'd never willingly throw a newborn into the fray. Not even if it was a fucking Legendary blessed by Arceus.

… okay, maybe if it was a Legendary blessed by Arceus, because even a baby Palkia could probably win a battle just by glaring at its opponent. A baby Dialga or Giratina would just have to sit on them to win.

"Now, I'm navigating by a very precise set of landmarks," Eagun explained as we paused for a break by a stone building long since crushed by the tree that had grown over it, "Buildings like this one, certain stone features… any sort of physical landmark that won't change easily. Other forests, woodsmen will mark the trees with their axes, but you can't do that here."

He gestured to an ominous looking tree nearby, which snapped a fiery red eye open to stare at us.

"The Trevenants that live in this forest take exception to such actions, you see," he finished, even as Wes, Rui, and I tried not to fall over backwards in surprise at the sudden presence of the Ghost-type. Eagun turned to nod at the Pokemon. "There are a group of poachers in this forest, I'm afraid. We're trying to intercept them before they can bring more harm than they already have."

The Trevenant's eye focused from a glowing ember to a laser-point of crimson. "Rrrrnnnnnnnnnngh," it creaked ominously, "Hwwrrrrrrnnnnnnooooooooooouuuuuuh."

"I thought you'd appreciate the 'head's up' so you could pass it along down the vine, if you'll forgive the pun," Eagun murmured around a small bow to the tree Pokémon.

"Gwwrr," the Pokemon murmured back before shrinking back into the guise of a normal tree. Before I could fully release the breath I'd been holding, it jumped back to life again, roots ripping out of the ground in mockery of a spider's legs before running backwards into the forest at breakneck speeds, its one eye staring back at us for a long moment before twisting around to mind its path.

Silence reigned for a moment as we stared after it, jaws unhinged as we tried to process exactly what had just gone down. Slowly, my gaping expression morphed into a grin.

"That was simultaneously terrifying and fucking sweet," I got out as I clutched my mystery egg to my chest. Wasn't that one of those Pokémon that were supposed to be former human souls? Shit, I was actually feeling sorry for the Cipher goons that were about to be mauled to death by an army of motivated Ents. Well, I would feel sorry for them if they weren't Team Cipher, abusers and users of Pokémon.

A strangled drawn-out squeak was Rui's only response, while Wes worked at a stubborn lump in his throat. "Ghost-types… are fucking scary," he finally managed.

"Good reason not to mess with the forest, isn't it?" Eagun asked as he craned his neck, studying the trees around us. "Now, we wanted to head… this way, yes." With that, he started walking again, not quite in the same direction that the Trevenant had gone, but along a similar trajectory.

A few minutes of trudging later, Wes asked a question.

"What happened? I mean, why are there so many ruins in here? Why is this forest like this when the rest of Orre is just a desert? Why would the people just leave if everything was –"

"If everything was so green?" Eagun finished, before shrugging, "Green does not mean 'good'. It helps, yes, but just because there's a forest doesn't mean that people can survive here any easier than they could in the desert. As for the ruins… well, we do not know the exact cause. It's been well over a thousand years since the event occurred, so it's not terribly surprising that evidence is difficult to come by."

My hand passed over a piece of stone wall, tracing the worn carvings on the other side of it. Clouds parting and meteorites dancing around a long flying serpent figure reminiscent of Quetzalcoatl. The colors were long gone, bleached out by the sun and washed away by rain, but what was there was enough to know what the mural depicted.

Hello, Rayquaza.

"What records we found of the ancients speak of a great conflict with another nation and of a King Ahz Aezedae. Whether he was the local ruler or the king of the enemy nation is unclear, but it was under his rule that the conflict began and there are no records that mention him after that, be they of death or succession. Only the mark of great destruction and many a curse laid against his name," Eagun continued. "I haven't had the opportunity to consult any other historians on the matter, Orre being what it is, but there are a handful of other figures in antiquity that seem to correspond with Aezedae, though they predate our mysterious disaster by two thousand years."

Wes frowned. "So if it wasn't him…"

"Then it could have been many different things. Disease, natural disaster – Mount Battle had a fair eruption around that point in history –, Pokémon migration cycles shifting…" Eagun shrugged. "It could have been any or all of those, or even something else entirely. When the event is so long gone and without clear record, all you really have is speculation. And as fascinating as history is, it doesn't do to dwell on the past to the exclusion of the now."

Wes didn't look particularly satisfied with this answer, but the conversation thread had come to an end as we finally stumbled upon tangible proof of the poacher's presence.

I said 'stumbled upon', but it would have taken a person completely devoid of senses and sense not to notice the tire tracks that had gouged deep into the earth, smashing through brush and branches as carelessly as a Bouffalant herd in full stampede mode. A few Sentret and Furret stood around numbly, as shocked by the abrupt destruction as we were, though the sudden presence of humans sent them scattering back into the bushes.

"Hn. Looks like they've managed to point themselves in the right direction," Eagun muttered as he touched a broken branch, touching his fingers together after. "Saps still damp, so they've come through just ahead of us. Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes since we didn't hear anything."

"Why do you think they're doing this?" Rui asked.

"Money, power, shits and giggles," I shook my head as I stepped over a particularly puzzling tangle of roots that Vicious's jeep hadn't been able to chew through. "Some people are cruel for the sake of cruelty, but power… power drives more people than you'd think. If it comes wrapped up as knowledge, money, or something more direct, it doesn't matter. There's going to be someone trying to grab hold of it and make it their own, for whatever ends."

How many cruelties had been done in the name of power in this world? I had no way of knowing, but there were no end of people who obsessed over the power presented by Legendaries, even enough to try to create their own.

I glanced up towards the sky. Though I didn't have a clear view of it, the golden glow of daylight was beginning to bleed bright crimson on the leaves, throwing the gloom we were in below into darker shades.

"You have any idea when Celebi prefer to come out?" I asked Eagun.

"Unless they have a particular alignment to night, day, or any specific weather conditions, Legendaries aren't particularly specific about when they're afield," he said as we ran along the trail of ruin. "My own meager experience tells me that Ho-Oh prefers summer days just after the rain. They like making rainbow trails, y'see. Celebi though… the only thing they don't like is cold and frost, and I've seen them out in that sometimes if there's a lightshow going on above."

"Like the sunset?" Wes asked.

Eagun glanced up. "Wouldn't count it out."

Damn.

* * *

The trail didn't meander by much, only occasionally swerving to dodge a rock or tree too big to simply mow down before returning to its previous trajectory. At least two Trevenants had been run over completely, the shadowy cores moaning softly around the mulched remains of their solid bodies.

"Damn it," I growled, reaching for an empty Pokéball before Eagun motioned for me to stop.

"They'll recover on their own, Delaine; there are other trees they can possess once they gather themselves. Do not do them the disservice of capturing them without a fair fight or their consent."

I relaxed my hand, though I still felt terrible for leaving the Pokémon to their pain. The most I would be able to do for them and their forest was keep Celebi from getting captured by Cipher.

The forest trees tightened together the closer we came to our final destination. I couldn't see or hear Vicious's team, but there was no way they weren't here. Not with this kind of trail behind them. Not in this kind of frightened silence. Even the Aura of the forest was subdued, almost every being within terrified of whatever was going on at its heart.

"The Stone is just ahead, near the center of the lake," I heard Eagun whisper as we slowed to a crawl near the tree line, the sound of Vicious and his Cipher goons now just barely audible as they set up some kind of mechanical trap.

Lake? There was a lake? Like in the movie? Hell, I was a shit swimmer in both lives; I didn't need a _lake_ on top of the imminent shit show. Well, at least I would be able to dodge it, barring any immediately lethal stupidity.

Checking that the egg was secure in my backpack – it was, being tightly wrapped up in clothes, blankets, and my sleeping bag –, I grabbed Leven's Pokeball, letting it return to full size in my hand. The Shadow Tyranitar was a stop-gap measure, for when my starter was no longer an option. Considering that Vicious almost certainly had a Sneasel and a highly probable Houndoom on his hands, it was incredibly likely that I'd be using it.

"We ready to do this?" I asked and as I received a trio of tight nods, I twisted my cap around in the style of a childhood hero.

We exploded out of the brush, making a couple of the Cipher goons jump up from their work on the machine. There were a couple missing, I noted dully. What had started out as a party of six had been pared down to four, which made the absence of evidence along the trail disquieting. Had they wandered off or been dragged off into the forest by Pokémon, never to be seen by the light of day again?

"You punks sure are persistent," Vicious spat, brushing off a new gash in his flak jacket. "Would have thought you'd have the common sense not to follow us, but here you are; present and ready to pester."

I grinned. "Yep," I said, popping the last letter like bubblegum, "I exist to inconvenience assholes like yourself."

The machine behind him was a strange, malevolent looking thing, like someone had seen the talons of a great raptor and gone 'okay, but what if I made them bigger, spikier, and just all around eviler?' before setting pen to paper. Attached to that immediate attention grabber was a device of much more obvious design; a chair, from which sprouted similar, if much smaller talons on the ends of steel tentacles.

Recognition dawned as the sun finished setting. The Iron Masked Marauder's shitty spider-tank. The one that he'd used to torture Celebi and demolish the forest.

Why hadn't they just used that to go through the forest? Why wait until now?

Because, I realized, it wouldn't have crossed the desert. It would have sunk into the sands almost instantly, all that weight balanced on those tiny feet. And who knows how much fuel it took to run the damn thing. They'd saved it for its most important job; catching a Legendary Pokémon.

Well, fuck them and fuck their plan. I tossed Leven's ball into the air, allowing his burst of red light to materialize into white and green feathers before pulling the Tyranitar's Pokéball from my belt.

"Now," I said slowly as I let the ball grow to full size in my hand, "what was that you said about 'Hyper Beam' earlier today? 'Nothing like it to get your point across'?"

Vicious took a step back as I unleashed the Shadow Pokemon, which fell the last two inches to the ground and roared.

"Well, listen good, you piece of shit, because today's point is really simple. Two little words. Fuck –" I raised my middle finger before letting my index join it in an upright position to make a reversed V-sign, "–You."

The golden light of the Shadow Tyranitar's Hyper Beam made the early evening as bright as daylight.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Phew. Okay, this election… I don't need to tell you guys. It's a mess. It hasn't even been a month yet and I'm exhausted on every possible level. I do take a lot of pride in that ending tho.**

 **Man, this chapter… it turned out to be a lot less action and a lot more exposition into the history of Orre than I expected, though it's not entirely accurate – wink wonk – or unwelcome. Such is the burden of the historian; the chance that all your theories and answers can be fuckall wrong.**

 **Dee-de-de-DEEEEEE was supposed to be the Zelda item sound effect, in the event it was unclear.**

 **Action chapter is coming up, I promise.**

 **I named and styled the 'sea of green' after Jukai (sea of trees), otherwise known as Aokigahara, a rather famous forest in Japan northwest of Mount Fuji. It is not my intention to make light of Aokigahara's history or reputation. Suicide is not the answer. If you are thinking about hurting yourself, please contact a helpline or someone you can talk to.**

 **Anyway, comments and critique are as always appreciated, and hopefully you will all have a good – if not excellent – day.**


	5. Chapter 5

Vicious threw himself to the side, just barely escaping the blast zone of the Hyper Beam, but his machine wasn't so lucky. The metal contraption twisted back and flipped into the air before landing with a great splash in the lake, arms crumpling in ways not intended by its design. Hopefully that meant it was out of commission.

"Yes!"

The Tyranitar roared again, pleased with the destruction it had wrought. Its Shadow Aura was still painfully present, but maybe I wasn't imagining the fact that it seemed a shade lighter. Battling was one of the ways that you reduced the Shadow Gauge in the games and I couldn't imagine a reason why firing off a fricking huge laser beam wouldn't be cathartic.

I climbed up the back of the dragonoid Pokémon, settling on the spines of its back just behind the shoulder. "How does it feel to be on the receiving end?" I asked, glaring down at Vicious. "How does it feel to be helpless?"

There were other battles going on around, flashes of Pokémon in the corner of my eye – Wes's Umbreon had pile-driven a Zigzagoon face first into the dirt –, but my focus was on Vicious, who'd just pulled two Pokéballs from his jacket.

A Sneasel and Scizor appeared, Shadowy auras obvious as they adopted fighting stances.

"Both of you!" Vicious commanded, "Metal Claw!"

"Tyranitar, use Rock Slide!"

My Pokémon gave a small nod before sweeping a claw upwards, a huge spike of solid stone bursting out of the earth. Any thoughts on the sudden display of Earthbending were dismissed as it twisted around, slamming its tail into its creation, shattering it into boulder-sized chunks to rain down on its opponents.

The smaller Pokémon dodged and weaved through the stone storm while the Scizor's location was clear from the regular sound of crashing stone and screeching steel.

I jumped out of the way of the Ice-types steely claws as it went for my Tyranitar's head. Two slicing swipes barely scratching the surface but still enough to make the huge Pokémon reel back were all it got in before my Pokémon punched it to the side, sending the Sneasel bouncing ass over teakettle along the shoreline.

That distraction was the Scizor needed to get in the real damage dealers.

The Tyranitar screamed as deep rents gouged down its front. There was barely a trickle of blood to be seen against the crimson light of the sunset – how thick was that hide? – but the fact that there w _as_ blood was like a slap to the face. Blood was never part of a Pokémon battle, aside from a bloodied snout, a bitten tongue, or an off-hand scrape. This was true-drawn blood, deliberately spilled.

Logically, I knew that this level of violence wasn't beyond Vicious or Team Cipher, but in action…

Christ.

Tyranitar's Shadow Aura coiled, congealed, and then exploded. With a roar that could have driven me deaf from a direct angle, the Pokémon surged forward, swiping wildly at the Steel/Bug-type. The first few swings, the Scizor managed to dodge but Steel-type Pokémon weren't built for speed. It was only one slow step, followed by a failed feint that left it open for the berserker rush.

Skrang! Skrang! Skrang! Skrang! Skrang! Skrang!

The Scizor finally faltered under the barrage, the dented steel of its Metal Coat just as horrifying as the gouges in my Tyranitar's hide. Despite this battery, this cavalcade of violence, the Scizor was still conscious, barely braced up on its claws, shuddering as it tried and failed to force itself back up to its feet.

No. This wasn't right.

The Tyranitar stepped back from the fallen Pokémon, bringing back a fist to deliver the final, crushing blow –  
I grabbed one of the spines on its tail and pulled back. "Stop!" I yelled, "That's enough! Please, Tyranitar, stop!"

The fist ground to a halt as Tyranitar slowly turned to glance down at me, some unreadable expression in its eye and its Aura cool and gathered for all that it had been dark and roiling a second ago.

"Why are you holding back?" Vicious yelled, "Are you such a weak, bleeding-heart of a trainer that you can't even let nature take its course?"

The Scizor shuddered one last time before it fell completely to the ground, one gold eye staring up from the dirt at me and my Tyranitar.

"This isn't about your skewed view of 'nature' or me being a better person than you – believe me, I don't need anything to confirm that little factoid," I replied, looking down at the fallen Pokémon rather than the disgusting man who called himself its trainer. My eyes flicked up to meet Vicious'. "This is about stopping you from hurting anyone else."

A Pokéball flew from the side to snatch up the fallen Scizor, the battered Pokémon giving no resistance as it was sucked up into red light. Wes pocketed the ball. "Couldn't have said it better myself. Oh, and don't go looking for your Sneasel, 'cause I've already picked it up."

The rest of the battles had apparently finished, as Rui and Eagun walked over to stand next to me, their own Pokémon still standing, if slightly more bruised than before. Leven swooped down to perch on my shoulder.

Vicious stepped back, his stance immediately wary. The red light of the sunset was as red as blood and the shadows of trees far down the shore had crept up to our feet.

My words could have been construed as a threat. Very easily, in fact, if I was the sort of person that Vicious was. His mission was void, his Pokémon gone, his life under threat. The poacher was on edge for – in his mind – very good reasons.

Of course that was the moment that Celebi would show up.

Of course Vicious would throw the Dark Ball.

And _of course_ the capture would go through because my life is all shit all the time and my 'patron' is a fucking jackass.

* * *

It's easy to forget that despite being cute as all get-out, Celebi is still a Legendary and – this is the important part – a Psychic/Grass-type that bears the designation 'Guardian of the Forest' and the 'Time Travel Pokémon'. Now put that Pokémon, that veritable elemental god in tiny excitable form, through the wringer of emotional and mental abuse it takes to make a Shadow Pokémon.

Imagine an Evangelion in full berserker-mode. Exaggerate various details, like the size of the head, the length of the arms, hunch the spine, add some wings and antennae. Take that image and recreate it to scale in wicker, broken branches, gnarled trees, and old dried-out vines. Every movement it makes is a moan or a groan, when it isn't shrieking like a banshee with an arm caught in a food processor. Imagine that it is very big, very strong, very fast, and very pissed at you in particular. Oh, and it has Frenzy Plant, Hyper Beam, and god knows what else packed up its twiggy ass.

Basically, make it a Thorn Elemental from hell.

During straight daylight, this giant twisting nightmare of plant fiber and uprooted trees would have been intimidating. At the dying of the light, when the world was painted in shades of red, purple, and black?

Yeah, no, bowel-voiding is an appropriate response.

The only reason why we weren't dead already was that, somehow, the 'Time Travel' part hadn't come up yet. Whether this was because its current condition prevented it from utilizing that power or the Shadow Celebi was being actively blocked by other time-sensitive Pokémon, I didn't know, but anything allowing me and everyone else not to be dead as of five minutes ago is welcome at this party.

I twisted around a thrashing tangle of roots, digging my fingers into the rough wood to twist my body away from the massive tree trunk that had just slammed down in front of me. Tyranitar was taking the onslaught worse than I was, but it had the advantage of being infinitely sturdier than I was. Still, I'd probably have to return the Pokemon very soon.

"Do you know Flamethrower?" I asked it.

It gave me another look before rearing back and blasting the Shadow Celebi's creation with a Hyper Beam. Its right arm fell away, though the victory was short-lived as fresh growth burst out to replace the disintegrated limb.

"I'm going to take that as a 'no'," I muttered as I dodged a long sharpened stake, one of many that were being shot down from above. Even if Celebi wasn't acting overmuch on its Psychic-typing, it was certainly finding new ways to make a person fear flora. "Wes!"

There was a muffled and in no small part annoyed 'What?' from inside Celebi's walking doom fortress. I'd seen Rui get sucked up, but Wes's position was news to me.

"I was going to ask how you were holding up, but I guess that's an answer!" I called back before turning to my Tyranitar. "Alright, if Flamethrower is out, do you have Dark Pulse?"

The Pokémon shifted its stance, claws turning in a vaguely martial art sort of way as they gathered black-violet light. Its Aura was darkening as well, not quite into the mindless froth of blazing negativity that I associated with a berserking Shadow Pokémon, but the sort of black thought that required focus and think 'you know what, I really hate that one thing on every possible level for all of these reasons'.

Celebi's creation paused, giving the display its full attention… just in time to take a 'face' full of Dark Pulse. It reeled back, seemingly stunned by the attack.

Not that the seemingly super effective attack came without cost. Tyranitar sank to its knees, apparently finding the edge of its endurance in unleashing the last attack.

I recalled it. Considering what I was going to do next, there was no point in leaving it behind.

"You did good," I whispered to it before fastening the ball to my belt. "Leven!"

The Rowlet settled on my shoulder and gave me a small 'whirru?'.

"I'm about to do something stupid," I whispered to the Pokémon, "I'm not asking you to come with me, but…"

Leven leaned over to bonk his head against mine. "Chuff."

I smiled before I started running towards Celebi's nest monster. It shifted, its hollow gaze fixing down on me before punching down. I dodged the fist with a quick hop – apparently, that Dark Pulse had muddled the Shadow Legendary more than I'd dared hope – and began to run up the tangled growth it called an arm.

I had a plan. It wasn't the best one – hell, it was half-cobbled together with details I could barely remember from the Celebi movie and the random range of bullshit my brain diverted to in times of crisis – but it was a plan and Step One was Run. Run faster than the attacks that could kill me, run faster than the gravitational forces that threatened to drag me back down to earth, run faster than the reactions of anyone who could possibly hope to stop me.

A few vines swiped at me, but they acted confused. Uncoordinated. I grinned as I ducked under a sloppy near-miss. Celebi was Confused. Fantastic.

I mean we're all still in danger, but it was like five less danger than before and the Shadow Celebi stood a chance at taking itself down. The plan actually stood a better chance of success now.

Getting to the main 'body' of the wicker monster, I shoved myself through a large gap and kicked at a few wayward branches that were blocking my path. "Weeeeeessss? Where are you?"

"Over here."

I looked up.

Wes was tangled into the wall, his arms fully outstretched and half-visible under the braided vines holding him in place near the 'ceiling' of the room. "Can you get me down?"

I climbed up the wall quickly, drawing level with him in an instant. Tugging on the vines did little; they were as tightly braided together as the fibers in a high-quality rope. If I had a knife, I could probably cut them, but that required three things I didn't really have; time, energy, and a knife.

"Does the Snag-Machine charge balls or do you need to throw them yourself?" I asked.

"What?"

I sighed and slowed down. "If I put a Pokéball in your hand, could you make it a Snag Ball that I could use on Celebi?"

Wes stared at me for a moment before his face finally crumpled up in annoyance. "You think this thing came with a user manual? How would I know? I've never used it like that –"

"Well, we're about to use it like that now," I said, shoving a Pokéball into his gauntleted hand. Once a light flashed on that Wes confirmed as the 'ready' light, I took it back. "Leven will try to cut you loose, but I'm going after Celebi while it's still confused."

"Vicious is still up there," Wes said. "I've heard him ranting; he's losing his mind over this whole thing. I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to attack you himself."

"Thanks for the heads up," I murmured as I cast a glance to the ceiling. I looked back at Wes. "If this doesn't work out…"

"…it was nice running with you," he finished before smiling. "Same here. It's been crazy, but the good kind of crazy."

I took a deep breath and adjusted my hold on the charged Snag Ball as I got ready to climb higher. "See you on the other side."

* * *

This room wasn't much different than the one Wes was in, despite being about fifteen feet straight up from the last. It was bigger, yes, there was a big ol' 'window' that served as the twig golem's 'eye', and at the center sat a Pokémon subjugated by one of the worst humanity had to offer, but there was little difference in the wicker walls and claustrophobic atmosphere.

I looked around. No Vicious in sight. Searching with Aura was useless in here, what with Celebi's Shadowed presence everywhere around me drowning out any lesser noise.

Celebi itself looked terrible. I'd only gotten a glimpse of the Pokémon before Vicious captured it, but in the short time that had passed between then and now had worn on the Grass-type badly. Where it had been bright spring green before, the Celebi's body had browned and wilted. Not enough for me to call it dead out of hand, not with the way the sunset played hell with color and shadows, but if we didn't get it clear of Vicious's control…

I reached up to brush the side of its face involuntarily – too small, too battered – and its eyes snapped open, pinpoint pricks of black – they're supposed to be blue – staring through mine – help me help me – as something stabbed behind my eyes –

Something threw me back and into the wall. I fell, the pain in my back disrupting what could have only been Psychic contact. Rolling over onto my side, I looked up at Vicious.

He looked like hell, but the same kind of near-dead hell as Celebi. His hair, formerly gelled into position, was now a wild explosion and his visor had somehow cracked, letting me get all-too-good a look at the manic gleam in his eye. There were odd tears in his jacket, as if he'd been scratching up and clawing at the material himself.

This was the kind of personal disintegration that took days, if not weeks to occur, not a half-hour.

"You should have just let me win," Vicious said around a wide grin. It was disquieting, watching his expression fail to shift. "Wouldn't have to kill you, wouldn't have to kill your friends, wouldn't have to destroy this forest…"

He lurched over, giggling before he gathered himself enough to stand back up straight.

"Everyone… would have… just… been… _**happy**_ ," Vicious finished breathily. His eyes were pinprick points behind the shattered glass of his visor.

A horrible lightbulb went off in my head as I realized.

"You fucked over a Psychic-type's head," I said as I stood, almost as much to myself as to Vicious, "and now it's returning the favor, consciously or not. You're living in each other's heads. It's just a cycle of crazy, spinning faster and faster out of contro–"

"I AM COMPLETELY IN CONTROL!" Vicious screamed as he ran at me, "I HAVE THE POWER, I HOLD THE LEASH! I AM THE MASTER HERE AND YOU – WILL – OBEY –!"

I twisted, flipping him over my shoulder and across the room, losing my hat in the process. "You don't have shit!" I spat back at him, sliding into a fighting stance. He was bigger than me, taller, heavier… but I actually have a brain to work with.

Not to mention a…

I stared at where the Snag Ball lay on the other side of the room.

Fuck.

Vicious was on his feet again, swaying from side to side. His visor was gone, left in pieces on the floor from his minor flight, and the look in his face was somehow worse than before. The smile was gone and what was left was a twisted visage of rage, horrifying in the crimson dying glow of daylight.

And he was standing between me and the Snag Ball.

Great.

Vicious lunged again, and I moved to turn him over my shoulder again. It was one of the few pieces of judo I knew, but it hadn't failed me yet... Half way through the turn, thick fingers caught in my hair and I realized that this was going to suck.

My head jerked back as Vicious very nearly ripped off my scalp and I crashed to the floor. My only satisfaction was that my opponent was also on his ass or, better yet, thrown out the window, but that was short-lived as something stabbed into my temple.

"Celebi…"

The Shadowed Legendary stared at me, the pressure in my head building as the stare held. Then it closed its eyes, the press of foreign thoughts easing as its body wilted further. If this battle kept going, I was absolutely certain that the Celebi would die. I couldn't wait for Wes.

I eased my way off the floor, ignoring the pain as I crawled towards the Snag Ball.

Cut this off at the source, stop this woven basket nightmare from sapping any more of Celebi's power, and I might be able to save the Legendary.

Vicious wasn't even important in the face of that.

My fingers finally closed around the ball and I turned back to Celebi. I crawled back to the Legendary and held up the ball. "Can you please go in here? This one won't hurt, I promise…"

The pressure in my head pulsed for a moment before easing entirely and I tapped the Snag Ball's button against the Shadow Celebi's forehead. As the Pokémon dissolved into red light and the Pokéball clicked without and shuddering protest, I relaxed.

And then freaked out as the wicker giant started to collapse into the lake.

I slid across the rapidly increasing incline of the floor, scrambling for a grip with my free hand. I couldn't lose Celebi's Pokéball. Not now.

…wait. Wes.

"Wes!" I yelled as I slipped further down towards the 'window'. I was only a foot away from having my feet dangling out in open air.

"Delaine! I'm alright!" he called back. "Your starter–"

"Are you out of this thing?"

"Yes!"

"Cool, because I need –" I cut off as a hand grabbed my ankle.

"I HAVEN'T LOST YET!" Vicious roared as he dragged me towards the edge.

I kicked him in the face on reflex and his grip fell apart as blood exploded from his nose. Anything else that could be done or said was lost as we hit the water.

Hitting the water was worse than any diving board and, rationally, I knew why. We'd come down from higher up and higher speeds than you could ever get from a springy plank of plastic three feet above the surface of a pool. It only made sense that it felt like being slapped by an irritated god.

Every part of me aware after going under, though, was anything but rational.

The water was clear, though that didn't count for anything when the sun was gone from the sky. It didn't sting my eyes – it was too clean for that, far away from civilization and the pollutants associated with –, but as I sucked down a lungful on reflex, it still burned.

Screaming would have been counterproductive, but hell if I didn't want to.

Further away, Vicious drifted limply, going neither up nor down as a cloud of red floated around his face.

I struggled for the surface, Celebi's Pokéball still in my hand. Even in the middle of a freak out, even the stupid part of my brain refused to let go.

Good for you, stupid me. Now let's try 'not dying'.

I reached up, straining for the surface, only made clear by the presence of some glowing white thing way above.

The moon, you dip. It's called the moon.

Whatever it is, it's lovely.

 _Thank you._

I blinked as I floated towards the surface, the hazy moon coming into focus. Did the moon usually have a face... or bat wings? Still lovely. Batmoon.

The moon smiled down at me and I knew it was okay to stop fighting. The ghost of a laugh drifted across my mind as I fell unconscious, the last thing to cross my mind the fact that I was no longer under water.

* * *

"D-ne! D-l-ne!"

I was aware of ground beneath me and an ache in my lungs. It was cold. Why was it cold… oh right.

"Delaine!" Eagun said again. He was sitting next to me,

I'd almost drowned and it was night. Of course it was cold.

"'m here," I murmured.

"Thank goodness," he murmured, leaning back. "We were worried. If not for that Pokémon…"

Moon. Spacebat. "Lunala," I said, tilting my head back to look at the moon above, "Her name's… Lunala. Emissary of the moon. Or she is a Lunala, emissary of the moon. Legendaries are strange…"

"More things in heaven and earth…" Eagun murmured around his pipe.

"Did you get the ball? Celebi?" I asked.

"Yes. Wes had to pry it from your hands," Eagun said, nodding towards the sleeping figure of the ex-criminal trainer. He was slumped against a tree, his Pokémon nestled up against him. "We'll have to talk to a professional, but that Pokémon… Lunala did what she could for Celebi."

I smiled as I drifted off again. "That's good. That's… fantastic."

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Oh my god. I wanna get Sun/Moon so bad, but money's tight and I'd have to buy a 3DS to go with it because all I have is a DSi… /but that _Litten_ tho.**

 **Anyway, sorry about the long, stressful chapter. Everything was kind of building up to this, but damn if it was murder to put myself in this headspace. Celebiii... also Lunala cameo. Psychic/Ghost space bat is lovely.**

 **Thorn Elemental is one of my favorite Magic the Gathering cards, besides Wind Drake, Shimmering Wings, and all the Myrs (not that I play anymore, between the lack of social life and not having enough money to afford TCG's of any kind, but me and my brother used to play against each other constantly when we were younger and he had a Thorn Elemental). I think I still have my Wind Drake somewhere…**

 **Uh, just to make things clear, in this fic, Pokémon are not always to game scale – ex: the Tyranitar, I'm treating as being around 12 to 16 feet tall instead of the canon 6'07" approx. I'm just charmed by the idea of really big, scary-looking Pokémon getting loved on by tiny trainers – not in a dirty way, gah. I'm kinda just splitting the difference between the games and the anime, because the anime just has a better sense of dramatic… but sometimes I'll just BS and give whatever size because I wanna.**

 **I'm just saying that something *cough cough* a big stonkin lizard Pokémon *cough* that, if it loses its shit long and hard enough, requires a cartographer to redraw a map, probably should be a long way bigger than a human (though if you're going off of game canon, AZ is around ten feet tall, so…).**

* * *

 **Someone noted that a single type disadvantage isn't a reason to back away from a battle. True, but there's a few other factors in Vicious's decision.**

 **1: He's lost his primary heavy hitter, not to fainting, but to his opponent snagging it. Sure, the Tyranitar might be weakened, but that's not going to stop it from squeezing off another Hyper Beam.**

 **2: He doesn't know if his opponent's Rowlet can squeeze off another Bloom Doom. _We_ know Leven can't, but nobody in-universe right now knows jack about Z-moves because a) that's a pretty recent development in the games and in-universe, and b) Orre is PokéWorld backwater.**

 **3: There's now a fresh Pokémon on the field that has an advantage against everything he can possibly bring to the party.**

 **4: He can only assume that every single Pokémon that could be used against him has already made an appearance. We know this to be a fact, but he doesn't have the benefit of being part of the audience.**

 **5: He's on the clock. There's no point in wasting resources on a battle that has absolute jack to do with his mission. He's getting nothing from it, except maybe some better directions, and even that isn't wholly necessary to his plan, though it does raise the chance of it succeeding.**

 **Vicious – at least as I've written him – is a pragmatist. He doesn't give a shit about 'winning' or 'losing' so long as it doesn't affect him or his actual goal. To him, Pokémon are tools, used to bridge the gap between 'Step 1' and 'Profit'. Parading them around, whether through contests or battles, is a waste of time and energy. Sure, in a lot of cases battles are necessary for self-defense and – if you're part of a villainous team – offense, but he doesn't start them pointlessly. Not unless shit is going way wrong for him.**

 **The conflict at the lake escalated because the mission target is – at one point, literally – there. The energy + resources it takes to go after Celebi now is a lot less than it would be to retreat, regroup, and try again in the face of a prepared defense and highly uncooperative local. After that, he started having a breakdown because for all his 'power', these kids keep kicking his metaphorical teeth in. Once is bad luck, twice is enemy action, because Vicious doesn't believe in coincidence. Getting his tail handed to him despite having the power of a Legendary at his command (even if it is a highly traumatized Legendary which may or may not be stuck in a negative psychic freak-out loop with its 'master') is not going to help.**

 **And it all only really happened on account of Wes having the Snag Machine. /shrugs.**


	6. Chapter 6

I slept like the dead. It was probably the best sleep I'd gotten in recent memory, if only because this body wasn't in some kind of low-key pain all the time and any natural inclination to insomnia was counteracted by the fact that I was completely and totally wiped out. In the face of all of that, I didn't dream. Occasionally I'd drift close enough to consciousness to catch bits of some conversation going on over my head; usually worried, but the occasional burst of laughter as something amusing was said. Nothing was clear enough to make out, either because it was outside whatever room I was in or I was still too far from proper awareness to understand the words.

But finally, after god-knows-how-long, I opened my eyes to daylight.

And saw a weird ass owl staring down at me, half of its asymmetric cut leaf slash hair flopping right down in my face.

"Whiirn," it said.

"Theffeeckisdis," I mumbled at I squinted up at it. It was… creamy white and green, and the beak seemed familiar… and it had a little leaf bow-tie. "Leven," I realized, "You evolved?"

"Whuur!" my starter cooed.

Whatever my no-longer-a-Rowlet was now, it was… interesting. The bow tie was still there, as was the beak I was used to, but instead of being a round ball of leaves and feathers, Leven was now actually owl shaped… except for the fact that he had emo-hair now. Green, actual-leaf emo-hair.

"You're just getting more and more Doctor-y," I muttered, reaching up to brush its 'leaf' hair out of my face.

Leven spun back from the contact, opening his eyes for the first time as he flapped his wings at me. "Whhiiiiiir! Whuri!"

"Alright, alright! I won't touch the hair. Jeez."

I sat up, ignoring the popping of my spine and the protests of a Pichu that had been napping on my chest and ended up being sent rolling by my awakening.

Eagun's house. Good. I fumbled for my backpack, pushing different junk to the side until I found where I'd shoved my Pokédex.

"Alright, let's see what the fuck you are now," I said as I flipped the database open.

"Dartrix, the Blade Quill Pokémon," the Pokédex's electronic voice recited, "Razor sharp quills are concealed in its wings, which it throws at its prey. It seldom misses. A bit of a dandy –"  
I shot a look at Leven and he covered his hair protectively under his wing. "Oh, I could have told you that."

"–it spends its free time preening its wings. Its preoccupation with any dirt on its plumage can leave it unable to battle. It is described as a bit of a birdbrain as it has a tendency to bungle things up. Its desperate struggle to cover its mistake sometimes makes the situation messier than usual."

I stared at the Pokédex before looking up at the affronted Pokémon. "So, basically, you're the Dingus Bird," I deadpanned.

"WhirrRROOO?!"  
"I see you're awake," Beluh said as she came into the room. "No aches or pains?"

I shook my head. "How's everyone else?"

"Oh, fine. A little worried about you, but mostly we're just trying to get things organized," she said, "We'll probably take some stone and make a proper path to the Memori Stone. Take the wreck Cipher made of the forest and make it halfway presentable without making anything worse."

"And Celebi?" I asked.

Beluh folded over few sheets in silence before heaving a sigh.

"Whatever happened to that Pokémon, it refuses to have anything to do with anyone. Not the nurses, not Rui, not Eagun."

Any good feelings that had built over the last few minutes plummeted into the pit of my stomach.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I… I could have been faster. Held back less. Gotten in the way," I said, bowing my head into my knees. "I could have kept Celebi from getting captured in the first place."

There was a slap to the back of my head and I looked up into the face of an upset grandmother.

"Don't talk like that," Beluh scolded, "Are you all knowing? Can you teleport? Do you have telekinesis? No, you're just a human. A human with Aura, yes, but you aren't a master. You can't hold yourself responsible for things you cannot control. You saved Celebi from that awful man, just like you and your friend Wes saved the other Shadow Pokémon and the Memori Stone. Nobody else could have done it, so don't dump on yourself for not being perfect."

"But –"

"But nothing! Sometimes the world doesn't give us the ideal scenario. We must make as much as we can with what power we have," she said before taking a deep breath. "Sometimes, things don't turn out well at all. And it's easy to think that it's something you did, some sort of… deficiency on your part. But it's not. It's just… bad luck and circumstance and sometimes it falls on the shoulders of others. If anything, it's that Vicious who's to blame for this entire situation. Him and whoever hired him. I know it's in bad taste to speak ill of the dead –"

I blinked before realization stole all the warmth from my body. "He's _dead_?"

 _Vicious sank slowly through the dark water, the last glow of moonlight coloring the cloud of red around his head nearly black._

I wanted the man dead but not _dead-_ dead. And there was no reason…

I'd killed him. Not on purpose, but I must have knocked him unconscious when I kicked him in the face, leaving him to drown. If I hadn't managed to end him right then, a treacherous voice added darkly.

Human bodies were fragile like that.

A pale of soft, wrinkled hands broke the reverie as they took my own, which had crawled up to clutch at the sides of my head.

"Delaine," Beluh said softly, "you can't blame yourself for this. That man brought his death down on himself."

Then why did I feel like hell for being part of it?

* * *

I sighed as I scratched the fuzz between a Pichu's ears and listened to the Mouse Pokémon's happy buzz. Even though I'd spent the last few days completely passed out, I was still on bed rest. Which meant being used as a source of warmth by every baby Pokémon in the building capable of making the distance to my room.

It was kind of nice, being covered in tiny fluffy cuties, even when one hiccupped just right to give me an unpleasant shock. They did that a lot. And in the middle of that was the egg that Beluh had given me. Thankfully, the egg case had held up through the violence at the lake and the egg inside had been undamaged.

The Pokédex didn't have much to say on what it might be, only that it was probably a few days off from hatching. My best bet would be a Riolu. An Aura Pokémon for an Aura user.

I sighed, going back to petting the sea of yellow Mouse Pokémon around me.

I hoped it was a Riolu. Or maybe it was a Mantyke. That would be cute, even if they were a pain to evolve and Orre was a nightmare for Water-types. A Munchlax would be adorable too… but a bit hard to take care of. Resources weren't always easy to come by in Orre.

A Pichu sighed happily as it leaned into my side and I smiled.

I wouldn't have minded a Pichu. They were cute as hell and it was fun having a head-and-shoulder pet. Leven certainly wasn't in a suitable weight class for the job anymore.

My Pokégear rang and I sat up straight, knocking a Pichu down to the bedspread.

It was an outdated model – more built for durability than luxury, like everything else in Orre –, the kind of satellite mobile that my brain half associated with the clunkers of the eighties and the field telephones from the war films. It had a flattened handset that was attached to the base by a heavy duty spring-curled cord and an automatic snap-clasp base.

The base that clipped to my bag served as both a straight radio, satellite connected base, and a combination solar and shake charge battery capable of being hooked up to other small devices, like MP3 players. Outside of that, it only had four features; phone, radio, map, and time, but the phone feature also came with an internalized contact list.

I picked it up and my mom immediately was yelling in my ear.

"Mom, I'm okay. I'm covered in Pichu, how could that not be okay?" I said as soon as I could get a word in sideways. I held the receiver down to the pile of Pokémon, where there was a great sigh from the little yellow Mice Pokémon, except for the one who was still upset about being knocked from its perch. "See? Fine."

"Beluh said you were unconscious for two days straight!"

"Well, yeah," I admitted, pinching the headset between my ear and my shoulder as I tried to position the Pokégear more comfortably. Sometimes I envied the wrist mounted sets, though they wouldn't last a week in Orre. "But considering what happened with the lake and the poachers, I'm not like super-ultra-surprised, y'know?"

"He said you almost died!" she yelled, "If Eagun hadn't convinced me not to, I would have been out there in hours!"

"…I'm sorry," I murmured, any attempt at casual falling away as tears threatened to start spilling.

"Baby, don't apologize. I… I just was so worried. You could have died."

Forget threatening, they just did. A Pichu squeaked in protest at the sudden wetness before looking up at me.

The last time I'd almost drowned, my dad hadn't given a shit. He'd just kind of shrugged and said 'I guess God didn't think it was time for you to die yet' before walking off. No comfort, no sympathy, no questions if I was alright, even though I wasn't.

I had almost died and he didn't even care.

In this world, my mom did.

"I'm sorry, mom," I hiccupped as Pichu climbed all over me, all squeaking in concern at the sight of their bed warmer leaking water out of her face.

"Delaine, you don't have to apologize," she said, clearly crying on her end of the line too. "Just get better and come back to me safe, okay?"

"I love you, mom."

"I love you too, honey. Get better, okay?"

"Okay," I sniffled before I hung up and dragged a sleeve across my leaking face.

Leven gave a concerned 'whirr' from behind me.

"I'm okay," I told my starter, reaching back to rub his feathers. The Pokémon jerked away before holding back and letting me stroke his 'hair'. Leven would probably spend the rest of the day grooming it back into place, the ridiculous thing, but the fact that he still let me muss it in the first place was a good reminder that he was still my precious partner.

Someone knocked on the door, only giving me a moment of warning before they stepped in.

It was Wes, though he was almost unrecognizable without his blue coat. Instead, he was just wearing a black form-fitting shirt along with the rest of his normal outfit. It almost looked normal, if a bit severe for the greys and greens of Agate Village. Chaya and Zener followed in behind him, looking at the sea of Pichu with a sort of dull interest. Well, they were probably fairly well acquainted with the resident baby Pokémon by now.

"How you doing?" he asked.

"Fine. Tired, I guess," I said, leaning my head on my hand, "Just got off the phone with my mom."

"Oh. How'd that go?"

"She was upset. Worried about me putting myself in that kind of danger, wishing she could be out here with me. Y'know," I said with a shrug, "mom stuff."

Wes looked bemused as he sat down in the chair by the wall, Zener sitting primly by his feet while Chaya curled up in the sun. "I wouldn't know anything about that."

I looked up. "Really?"

He shrugged. "My mother didn't really have a use for me and I didn't have a dad in the picture, so I just… kind of took care of myself. There were some other kids that I ran with and a few people that made sure I got something to eat every week, but…"

But there was no real social services, for orphans or the kids who might as well been. That was another hard truth of Orre, because we barely had a police force and because nobody could really enforce 'standards'. Pyrite Town and the Under existed, after all, and neither town took well to being told what to do by outsiders, even if they were well-meaning rather than arrogant assholes who looked down their noses at those less wealthy. If you didn't have anything, you had to rely on the charity of others or your own ability to steal it.

"Sorry," I said.

"Hey, it was rough, but I survived. Did just fine," Wes said around a ragged laugh, "yeah, I did just fine."

The conversation trailed off.

"How are the Pokémon doing?" I asked.

Wes grimaced. "Well, if I didn't believe in Shadow Pokémon before, I believe it now. They're… they're not easy to work with. If you want to break something, fine, but I've just been trying to do the same sort of exercises and play that I do with Chaya and Zener and they just… don't understand it. It's like someone took all the trust out of them and just broke it to pieces."

That's exactly how the Tyranitar was, but…  
"I don't think it's hopeless," I said, an edge of resolve entering my voice, "We just need to let them know that they don't have to be weapons. That they are… more than just fighting machines. That they are our friends."

He looked at me, trying to measure me up. "Five days. Five days and everything I know gets turned on its head. All because of you."

Before I could say anything, he continued, "You've got this strange power… that actually makes me think that you might be able to do it."

I smiled.

* * *

The new trail through the sea of green was coming along nicely. Part of being able to work with Pokémon, I supposed as I walked past a couple of Machamp pressing stones down into the earth. They were stronger than any human and more maneuverable than any machine. It was still crooked and wild, but that suited the forest well enough.

From just the edge of the true forest, where the sea of green truly became impenetrable, I could see eyes. Trevenant mostly, all apparently watching that the work didn't go _too_ far into their woods, but other Pokémon were peeking out, seeing what was afoot in their forest. Furret, Sentret, every possible Bug-type, Pidgey, Spearow… It was kind of a reminder, how many kinds of Pokémon there really were in the world.

More than a few of their eyes were on me. I could only assume to what Pokémon gossip chains discussed but if they talked about anything, the disappearance of Celebi would be prime fodder for the grapevine.

I kept walking, nodding to anyone who waved at me, but never really stopping until I got to the lake.

Unlike the pristine vista I'd first seen only three days ago, the evidence of our battle with Vicious was obvious and jolting. The earth was torn up, some areas frostbitten and burned, and the wreckage of Vicious's machine still lay in the water, twisted legs clawing up towards the sky like a skeletal hand.

Beyond that, halfway to the island where the Memori Stone was supposed to be, was the remains of Celebi's wicker twig monster. It had partially come undone under the force of its fall, though it was still easy pick out the head and 'wings' of the golem.

Eventually, the water and the weather would wash it away and nature would reclaim this lake, but for now, the fresh scars of the battle were impossible to miss.

I hadn't seen it before, but there was a footpath of sorts to the island. Stones lay just beneath the water, camouflaged by their blue-grey color, but they were wide and smooth and somehow untouched by moss or slime. The water splashed around my feet as I crossed them, and the slap of water was soon replaced by the rolling crunch of gravel as I finally stepped on the island's shore.

It was like a smaller version of the forest, all green growing over ancient stone, but there was something else about it. A silence that reached into the soul and told every passing impulse that was clamoring for my attention to _shush_.

It was peaceful.

At the center was a stone. It was not all that different in shape or color from the smooth puzzle of stones that made up the 'floor' of this forest temple, but it rose above them as small monolith that was somehow the center of that peaceful feeling.

I walked up to it, stopping about five feet away from it. I sat down and pulled Celebi's Pokéball off of my belt. It was no different from any other Pokéball. Red, white, and round with a ceramic/plastic texture, but there was a weight to it. Was that because it contained a Shadow Pokémon or because it contained a Legendary?

I couldn't say. It might have all been in my head.

Was what I was about to do smart?

Probably not. I had no idea how the Celebi would react or if it would crawl inside my skull like it did Vicious.

Was what I was about to do right?

Maybe. I had no idea what else to do. But it was better than sealing a Pokémon away for something it had no control over.

I pressed the release button and red light spilled out. It coiled in the air for a moment before finally settling on the form of Celebi.

It didn't quite look as bad as it had under Vicious' control, but there was still a dark, traumatized glaze to its eyes that was obvious even without looking directly at its Aura. It stared at me – no, through me, at least until I moved. That brought it back to reality. I slowly pulled out a small bundle from my bag, letting the Pokémon see exactly what I was doing with every movement.

See? I'm taking my time. I'm not here to fight.

Midnight blue eyes kept looking from the handkerchief bundle to my face and then back again.

"Is it okay if I open it?" I asked.

Celebi pulled back a little, wings fluttering behind it at nearly invisible speeds.

I'd take that as a 'no'.

"I'm not here to hurt you," I said keeping my hands far from touching the bundle. "I want to help, but only if you'll let me."

It stared at me, the only indication of what it could be feeling being the fact that its wings had slowed down a bit.

"Alright, thank you."

I licked my lips.  
"I realize that you've been hurt very badly. Maybe too badly for me to fully understand or appreciate," I said slowly.

"But I… I am an Aura Guardian. Maybe not formally, certainly not fully trained, but I am here to protect. And what I fail to protect, I will try to make better."

Tears started to burn behind my eyes as I looked down.

"I'm not saying that I'll be able to make everything better. I'm not that great and damage always leaves a scar, if it doesn't kill you outright. How bad that scar is depends on… it depends on how much help you get and how much help you're willing to get."

They started to spill out, spotting the stones in front of me.

"I… I want to help. I want to help all the Pokémon who've been treated like this. But I don't... I don't think I can do it if you don't want to do it either. Please, Celebi."

I wiped some of the moisture away from my eyes, though more quickly replaced it. "I… if you want to play with any other Pokémon, I'm working with some others. Some might not be really playful personalities, but Eagun raises Pichu and they're always energetic. I won't make you… if you don't want to fight in Pokémon battles, that's fine. I just… want to help make things better. Even a little bit."

A small hand touched my head and I looked up.

Celebi floated back before settling on the ground in front of me, on the other side of the bundle. The invitation was unspoken, but fairly clear. I moved my hands slowly towards it, undoing the simple knot and letting it fall open. The Pokémon's eyes widened minutely as it saw the pile red berries that sat in the middle.

"Eagun said that you liked these ones the best," I said, letting my arms fall down to my sides.

It stared at the pile and then back up at me.

I gave it a weak smile. "Go ahead. Or not, I can save them for when you want them. If… you want them, I mean."

Celebi didn't wait, quickly grabbing a single berry and flying back to sit on top of the Memori Stone. It took a cautious nibble before deciding that it wasn't poisoned and quickly reducing it to nothing. It slowly threw away caution, making shorter and shorter trips between berries before it just decided to sit in front of the pile and gorge itself continuously.

It didn't eat like I expected. Instead of just shoving the whole berry in its mouth like the one from the movie, this Celebi liked to take small bites at the sort of breakneck speeds that recalled caricatures of piranha, quickly leaving nothing but a smear of red stains around its lips and fingertips before moving to the next.

It was kind of cute, if it wasn't painfully reminiscent of a small child trying to figure out if a piece of candy was a trap and how long she could make it last while also getting as much of it in as short a time as possible.

But what was reassuring was how the shadows in Celebi's Aura seemed to slip away with the show of kindness. Maybe the Dark Ball wasn't as powerful as Cipher's usual way of creating Shadow Pokémon. That was good for Celebi at least, though I doubted many of the other Pokémon has that had gone through it would be glad for the knowledge.

Or maybe the Memori Stone was as powerful as both Eagun and Cipher seemed to think it was.

I smiled as Celebi destroyed the last berry and threw the handkerchief in the air as if that would reveal more underneath.

"I'm glad you like them," I said as the handkerchief settled on Celebi's head like a cheap sort of veil. "It's been a rough few days and everyone has been worried about you. Ah, but we haven't been formally introduced yet."

I shook my head and stretched out my hand.

"My name's Delaine. Nice to meet you, Celebi."

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

* * *

 **Okay, I'm sorry that this story took so long to update.**

 **Part of it is that I was more interested in Adventures In Time And Space on account of being more invested in Doctor Who at the moment and having more source material at my access (I've got a lot of Doctor Who and not nearly enough Pokémon) to feed said obsession. A big part of that problem is that I can't afford a 3DS and my computer isn't powerful enough to run mods (and I'm just generally not good at video games on account of a short attention span, though I have played certain games with a certain amount of success).**

 **Another part of it is that, unlike Adventures In Time And Space, I don't have much of an outline to work with. AITAS is almost entirely following the canon events, though certain things are slowly starting to move away from the canon. Orre Adventures, on the other hand, is partially based around two video games that came out over ten years ago, both featuring silent protagonists, which I then expanded on in original directions after that, along with adding a few elements from the anime/movies.**

 **Unlike AITAS, which has featured only one proper OC at this point, at least a third of Orre Adventure's cast has been OCs and maybe half of the canon character have had personality tweaks just to be able to serve as halfway believable characters.**  
 **That's the difference between a video game and a TV show, I guess.**

 **Anyway, have a nice frozen Hoth month everyone and may all your Festivus poles be shiny and bright.**


	7. Chapter 7

Wes had thought once that he understood the world. You did what you could to survive, you protected your own, anyone on the upside could go dry themselves in the desert, and you never expected anything to fall into your hand. That was the way it was in the Under.

He'd been young at the time, never had seen any sunlight outside of the trickle that came out of the crevasse that cut through the ceiling of his world lit by TV screens, UV lights, and flickering neon signs, every day as bright as every night in the cool, damp cavern city. He remembered being alone. Hungry. Too tired and bitter for tears as he crowded all of his limbs into the driest corner he could find.

Things had changed after that – picked up by a local gang, getting his Pokémon, leaving the Under, following Wakin into Team Snagem –, but the thought had stayed the same. Survive, protect, don't let anyone from the outside in, and expect nothing from a world that would never give you anything.

But then things started changing.

It might have started when Team Cipher pretty much took over Snagem's operation. They'd been recommended by the old boss, Jay, and suddenly it wasn't small time poaching and resale anymore. It was always running out and getting more… and getting more Pokémon from Orre was like squeezing water from a rock.

Wes wasn't bothered at the time. It was just the same old, just ramped up. Given, he'd gone after targets he hadn't really liked – kids, he tried to leave out, but sometimes it just had to happen – but it was nothing more than a twinge of discomfort, easily shoved aside.

Then he'd started noticing a shift.

Pokémon that he'd captured before were back out in 'circulation', but they were different. Darker, maybe. Angrier, for sure. He was surprised that Chaya wasn't permanently scarred from that Quilava's Flame Wheel.

Each encounter seemed to stack on the last. Wes had never been able to ignore Pokémon like he could people. The old man – what was Makan up to these days? Was he even alive? – had always said it was the mark of a born trainer, that it was why he'd given Wes the egg in the first place. It was something else that had let two Eevee come out of that egg.

So when it was time to decide if Wes was going to break the four cardinal rules or keep selling Pokémon to be broken, well, Wes knew which direction he was going to swing.

And so he went out with a bang, taking every chance of keeping that cycle going with him. After that, nothing really mattered.

Until that girl got literally dropped into his life.

At first, he was just… following. There was a question around her, and he had nothing to do than follow behind in chance of finding an answer. If it didn't come by the time he took her back home – Pyrite town wasn't out of his way, what trouble was that to him? –, he'd drop it. Easy.

And then she had to make it not easy. She'd dragged him out of the desert and into a world of green and then on into further trouble.

She was a good trainer, but Delaine talked like a crazy person. Aura and shadows… heck, the fortune teller in Pyrite at least was half believable with her mumbo-jumbo. But, somehow, she was right. If he hadn't believed her when he saw the Tyranitar, the Celebi had sealed it.

The look in its eye before everything had gone to hell… no, there was no way that was natural, not when it had been so happy before that.

Wes ran his thumb over the Pokéball that held the Sneasel. Yes, he'd snagged this one a few years ago from a hot shot tourist visiting Gateon Port. It had the same dark-light banding on its feathers that he remembered.

It had been hesitant to use its claws then. That wasn't the case now.

The Scizor was somewhat… easier. It was calm, if nothing else, but it was the sort of calm Wes recognized from those loners from the Under. Deceptive in that, while they weren't going to attack you first, they were ready to tear your arm off if you made the wrong move.

Still, maybe there was a chance for them. Maybe whatever Cipher had done could be repaired or at least spun less out of control.

"Hey, Wes!" Delaine called as she exited Eagun's house, almost flying down the stone steps with a smile on her face, her starter gliding along above and behind. The fact that Celebi wasn't gone for good was probably a big part of her good mood. He hadn't seen the green Legendary since the events at the lake, but she had shared the results of her trip to the Memori Stone with everyone.

Apparently, the Stone had the power that Eagun had said it had and, for some reason, Cipher had known it about it as well…

"You ready to go?" she asked, hefting her bag on her should. "We've got a bit of a walk before we get to your bike."

"Just about," Wes said, pushing any contemplative thoughts to the back of his mind. "Was waiting on you mostly. Pyrite Town?"

"Yeah. Gotta check in with my mom, get a few supplies… maybe beat the shit out of a kid I know," Delaine said as she recalled her starter and clicked the ball onto her belt. "Check out the colosseum and see if there's any Shadow Pokémon popping up around there."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Hey wait!"

The redhead – Rui, Wes remembered – almost fell down the stone steps before coming to a stop at their base, gasping for air as she leaned against the wall. Clenched in her hand was a rucksack crammed full of clothes and supplies.

"I'm going with you!" she panted.

Delaine moved her hands to her hips. "Really. Why?"

"You have Aura too, Delaine! I know you can see what was going on with those Pokémon!" Rui snapped, "I'm going to be the next Aura Guardian of Orre! I can't just… stand by and let Pokémon get broken like that just because I'm scared! What kind of example would I be setting for Mica?!"

Mica?

Something moved in the corner of Wes's vision and he turned to look. A small explosion of red hair – maybe a shade off of Rui's own – peeked out of a bush, a pair of acid bright yellow green eyes staring out from just beneath it. A little kid then, probably no older than five or six, and the first person under the age of twenty he'd seen in Agate Village, barring Rui. Probably the 'Mica' she was talking about.

"Setting a good example for your little brother doesn't exactly require running off to overthrow an evil team," Delaine countered, "Why not stay back and protect the Memori Stone? I'm sure Eagun could use the backup."

Rui shook her head. "The whole town is doing that, not to mention the forest! I… I need to get stronger and the only way I'm going to do that is by going out and doing things!"

"There's only so much room on Wes' bike…"

Wes smirked. "Y'could always double up…" he suggested.

The look Delaine shot him could have given an Infernape frostbite, but it quickly crumbled. "Fine. What's one more person on our quest to save the world?"

"Don't exaggerate," he replied as they started walking towards the forest path that would return them to the desert.

Not even a week ago, Wes had been no better than Vicious. Now, he was going to help rescue the Pokémon he'd helped steal. And maybe…

Maybe he could make up for what he did to them.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

* * *

 **Kind of a short chapter today but I kind of felt like a breather was justified and I kind of wanted to crawl inside Wes' head for a bit.**

* * *

 **YAAY PARADOX REVIEWS**

* * *

 **Yeah, I kind of wish I'd known my mom too. From all the stories, she seemed like a real firecracker.**

 **And you're right. I have done few near drownings in my fics. Mostly because I know what it feels like and how helpless it really feels to be in that sort of situation.**

 **My birthday was on the 28th. The day kind of sucked but the next day was okay. I'm doing my hair blue for the new year.**

 **I kind of forget that there are people who follow me in general rather than obsessively picking around for specific fandoms? Lol. I also don't like to overload with exposition in that direction, because I've always seen it as pointless – a lot of writing guides advise against overdoing detail stuff, and I might have taken that advice a little too close to heart –, but that might be because the fandoms where I really learned how to write was in the kind of fandoms where you either already sort of knew (Harry Potter) or you kind of picked up everything and carried it with you in the event it came up again later (One Piece).**

 **It pisses me off sometimes, because I have a lot of good ideas that I want to weave together into a masterpiece of fiction, but at the same time, my writing style tends towards the frenetic, every word flowing from the stream of consciousness with maybe a bit of plan in mind.**

 **I'd say that another part of the problem is that I'm not comfortable writing in a setting without having a fairly tight grasp of the canon (and sometimes a bit of the fanon), which I cognitively know is def. not a requirement for fanfiction but it's something I freak out about a lot. I still cringe a little when I think about the one fic I did without knowing _jack_ about the character I wrote it about.**

 **There's a funny story about wanting to get into Les Mis about two or so years back but being unable to get past the first page of the book so I just kind of… didn't. I had to settle for watching a tape of the musical and Shojo Cosette. That's one reason why I never got involved with that fandom (though if I could find a copy of Les Mis featuring actual identifiable _paragraphs_ , I might try again). Same deal with the Lord of the Rings.**

 **Anyway, Pokémon Colosseum (2003) and Pokémon XD Gale of Darkness (2005) are two Pokémon games that were released for the Gamecube and I'm still holding out for a 3DS remake. These were games where just about every battle you got in were doubles (except for maybe one in XD, I'm not sure), you could get snuck up on by enemy trainers, and your opponents actually had strategies beyond 'exploit type advantage'. Instead of having a regular 'random Pokémon encounter' mechanic like the portable games, players could only acquire Pokémon via snagging and purifying Shadow Pokémon or trading them in from another game (I believe that Ruby and Sapphire and _maybe_ Leaf Green/Fire Red were compatible, but I couldn't say for sure, since I never had the money to get the connectors).**

 **Gameplay wise, this kind of forced players to use Pokémon they'd ordinarily ignore – you only get 52 at the most in the first game –, but story-wise, your character (Wes in Colosseum, Michael in XD) was on a mission to collect and purify all the Shadow Pokémon. However, the ability to discern Shadow Pokémon from normal Pokémon wasn't an inherent trait of either protagonist. In XD, this was covered by Michael's Snag Machine coming with an Aura reader HUD-style display. In Colosseum, you got Rui.**

 **Unlike this fic, Game!Rui didn't have any Pokémon and… honestly, not much in the way of a personality or common sense outside of making sure you didn't snag normal Pokémon. Not that your silent protagonist really commented on it. You know how Wes ended up meeting Delaine and everything after it? That's what Rui did, but worse.**

 **While Rui is a character in the fic (along with becoming Michael / Mica's older sister, possible sending Jovi to the Shadow Realm), and one that will become more important, Delaine has been shunted into her 'canon' position, being able to fulfill the same requirements without necessarily being deadweight. I also kicked up the in-game's weird 'aura', which was only used for detecting Shadow Pokémon, to the Anime's version, which is basically giving a human a number of powers, capping out somewhere near a Lucario's ability and the ability to interact with 'time flowers (from one of the movies and particularly unlikely to show up in this fic). Pulse attacks (Water Pulse, Dark Pulse, Dragon Pulse) would be an example of Aura moves, along with Aura Sphere.**

 **As to why Delaine's abilities guttered in strength and ease of use, it's less of a complicated goals thing and more of a disturbance of inner peace. The ability to smooth out ones emotions and focus them along lines of the body (senses and physical) is a major part of Aura, and Delaine's double consciousness of real life versus game is tangling hers up at the moment, among some issues with guilt (blaming herself for things she can't control). Being able to resolve those issues and get some sort of inner peace / direction would help her get her abilities under control and in a position to be used for better effect.**

* * *

 **Anyway, more background.**

 **There are two Teams in Orre.**

 **One is Team Snagem, which are your pretty standard Pokémon thieves, ala our favorite Team Rocket squad. Wes is an ex-member, whose motivation for leaving was never explained in the game, though you did get to watch him bomb their base and destroy/steal their means of stealing Pokémon directly from trainers. They're fairly small time and their threats lose their teeth fairly quickly in both games as they lose both their support and their dignity.**

 **Their former leader, Jay (non-canon to games), was a lot more serious than their current boss, Gonzap (canon), but she dumped the organization when it became clear that it wasn't going anywhere (partially on account of a lack of team talent, mostly because Orre is Orre). She 'recommended' them to Cipher mostly because she felt that simple capture services were within their capabilities. Currently, she's running her own poaching operation out of a mobile base. She might have employed Vicious in the past in conjunction with Wes (the best of Snagem), thus leading to Wes's distaste for the man.**

 **The Second is Team Cipher and in terms of morality, they are the bottom of the barrel, only having to scoot over to make room for Team Plasma when Pokémon Black/White 1 and 2 came out. They abuse Pokémon for the purpose of 'closing their hearts' – game description, not mine – so that they can be used as weapons of war. It's implied that what's going on in the first game is a sort of testing phase, with a 'perfected' method being used in the second to create Pokémon that are harder to purify (this mostly takes form in Shadow Lugia, as there's not that much different in the others). They're also an 'international' team, as far as is implied in game, with the first ending with Wes taking down the local boss, while the sequel actually does end with Michael's actions leading to the end of the organization (apart from one character who doesn't want to drop it). They formerly employed Team Snagem to provide a supply of Pokémon for them to work with, but without the Snag Machine, they don't really have a use for them at this point.**

 **You could say that their motive… is a bit scattered, but I'd say over all, the motive is power. Different figures in the group express different motives for working with the group, most for power and money with some just being interested in the scientific process that goes into making Shadow Pokémon while a few others seemingly joined because they didn't fit in anywhere else.**

* * *

 **Orre itself is an unpleasant environment, between the fact that it is mostly desert too messed up for Pokémon to live in and the fact that the police department apparently consists of two people, only one of which is a competent officer. While a few cities are relatively civilized and pleasant, like Phenac and Agate – which is an odd coincidence, considering that both have the most reliable water supply –, the rest are rough places. Gateon Port is about average for unpleasantness, but Pyrite Town has a half-deserved reputation for being a rough town, while the Under is the sort of place outsiders can and do get assaulted by locals upon occasion.**

 **Then I added in the sea of green, which I did explain as being based on a real-world forest best known for its association with death, and gave it even more of a Lost Woods vibe. And yes, Eagun's exploration team is relevant to the story (I know for a fact that we will be encountering at least two of the remaining four, while the other two are a bit less important to the main plot but still have a good chance at showing up).**

 **The Colosseum system in Orre isn't directly corrupt, but at the very least two (Pyrite and Realgam Tower) have served as fronts for Cipher, the first as a distribution point for Shadow Pokémon and the second as… well, the last level for Pokémon Colosseum.**

 **I kind of realized that I'd spoiled the ending of the game by giving away what Delaine knew in-verse, but I still have a few curveballs in reserve.**

* * *

 **Pokémon Loyalty**

* * *

 **Delaine's uncertainty in being able to command the Tyranitar is more anxiety and panic settling in than any thought based in fact (though she might have a little bit of trouble considering that it's way above the level of her other Pokemon, so there might be a bit of an Ash and Charizard type relationship between them).**

 **Shadow Pokémon don't have any trust in them and I think Cipher's entire shtick is trying to turn Pokémon into weapons, it's probably a deliberate design choice, having a powerful Pokémon that is immediately loyal to whoever holds its leash. I almost said 'hold its ball' but then my brain said 'hold them by the balls'. Why brain.**

 **This also plays into how Vicious was actually able to use Celebi immediately (since his Dark Ball is pretty much the speedy-lite version of the Shadow Pokémon process). The whole Shadow Pokémon process is one brainwashing and one part beating the empathy out of a Pokémon.**  
 **But as noted in the fic and also in the games, Shadow Pokémon are known for going berserk after being in the field too long, with increasing frequency as their Shadow Gauges go down. They are also noted in the games for attacking their trainers, but I… am not entirely certain that it was actually in the games, but calling out to the Pokémon can snap them out of it. It's been a while since I've played.**

 **There are a number of things you cannot do with Shadow Pokémon in the games, one of which is give them nicknames. They also cannot level up or evolve until they are purified, but they do accumulate experience so as soon as they're back to normal, you suddenly have an evolving friend.**

 **But if you asked me right now what the list of potential nicknames for Tryanitar are, I'd give you this list:**

 **Mr. Crunchy (this was popular in my school / school district when Pokemon Silver and Gold first came out. I was the kid who managed to get a female Larvitar and name it Mr. Crunchy anyway).**

 **Zilla (Godzilla)**

 **Goji (Same) – probably going to be the 'canon' one, let's not lie.**

 **Flower**

 **Waffle (no, he hates it)**

* * *

 **Tyranitar, Other Pokémon, and Levels**

* * *

 **Delaine's a bit of a 'it fell into my hands, so it's my responsibility now' type of person – not necessarily a good mindset depending on what the thing is –, but Eagun's also a mostly retired trainer. Dealing with a highly traumatized Pokémon that he doesn't really have the means to care for or keep in line isn't something that he'd be able to do (again, most of Eagun's work is with the Pikachu evolutionary tree, though he might have employed a more diverse party in the past). Delaine on the other hand, is very enthusiastic about scary Pokémon (has that come in yet? I don't think I've worked that in quite yet beyond her enthusiasm for the Trevenant) with a certain penchant for Dark and Ghost types. It's how I usually play Pokémon myself, along with picking a Water starter and picking Electric types over Grass.**

 **They've also bonded by this point, but that's mostly because of their interaction in the battle (Delaine keeping it from killing the Scizor, being concerned with its general safety and treating it as a fellow sentient rather than as a straight tool of destruction – asking what it knows what to do rather than spamming Hyper Beam) rather than the capture itself. Same deal with Celebi.**

 **This Tyranitar is probably around… well, the earliest they evolve is level 55 and the one you can snag in Colosseum was the same level, so yes, it's around level 55 and they just really lucked out on being able to capture it. The rest of Vicious's Pokémon were probably between levels 25 – 27, with the Tyranitar being the odd one out of the bunch.**

 **How do I work with Delaine having a Pokémon twice as powerful as the other member of her party? Well, considering that most of the battles in Colosseum and quite a few in XD take place indoors or similarly limited areas, that means that a 12 to 15 foot tall laser spitting Mini-zilla is simply not much of an option.**

 **Both Zener and Chaya are both around level 25 (also game-canon) and Leven is probably around there as well, despite the fact that he has (well hadn't) evolved at that point (taking advantage of the anime treatment of evolution).**

 **Rui's Riolu on the other hand… well, it's a little harder to pick a level for him, mostly because Riolu's evolve based on friendship rather than straight numbers. You can get a Lucario at level 6 in the games if you play your cards right. Rui's had her starter for a few years though and since she lives in one of the few places in Orre with wild Pokémon, she'd probably had just about if not more battle experience than Delaine, who's only option is to battle other people in Pyrite Town…. So we'll call her Riolu a level 20 or maybe a little higher. He's probably close to evolving as well, but as the anime also treats evolution as a sort of emotional maturation for the Pokémon as well as a physical one, Rui's Riolu is probably held back by the relative immaturity of his trainer. They're good friends, obviously, but they're very silly personalities.**

 **The other Pokémon that Rui has, introduced as 'Wattson' is… definitely an Electric Mouse. I haven't quite decided on which one she'd have, but I'm partial to Dedenne. A Pichu would be the most likely, given who her grandfather is, but honestly, Rui would be cute with any of them. Maybe that's her specialty; zappy rodent friends.**

 **I love punny names and honestly, Rui would be the dedicated Watson of the group.**

 **And Delaine's egg is definitely a Riolu as well. Aura user, Aura Pokémon, pretty much basic arithmetic, but our protagonist is very good at second-guessing and over thinking things.**

* * *

 **Celebi, the Movies, and Other Games In The Series**

* * *

 **While Celebi was a pretty major part of the Orre games (associated with the Memori Stone, capable of being summoned with a breakable in-game item to completely purify one Shadow Pokémon, and available with a bonus disc that was only released in Japan), I sketched out a lot of it and the attack on the Memori Stone with the events of Pokémon 4Ever, where Vicious – there a Rocket Admin rather than a generic poacher – was after Celebi and used Dark Balls to achieve a similar effect to Cipher's methods.**

 **It kind of just fit together to me and it was one of my favorite movies as a kid (despite it not being the strongest movie the Pokémon franchise has ever produced), but I think about every Pokémon movie that came out until Jirachi Wishmaker was one that I liked at the time (because I really didn't get to _see_ any after Wishmaker).**

 **Celebi's actions probably did kill at least one grunt, but the rest probably booked it into the forest the moment things started getting crazy. Out of those that came out on the other side… well, it only takes one man to deliver a message.**

 **Psychic backlash probably is an issue with abused Psychic Pokémon, but it probably only manifests with the strongest ones and with those partnered with a Trainer open to a link in the first place. An Abra wouldn't be able to do as much damage as an Alakazam, in the first case, and I was using Sabrina from the anime was a second (I dully recall both her and her Alakazam falling to pieces laughing when Ash brought out the Haunter, but I literally saw this stuff like fifteen years ago). A Psychic Legendary could probably bypass such a link and a Legendary that links to a master via artifact would definitely be able to get around it regardless of type (like Groudon and Kyogre), but considering that we want our protagonists not to end up drooling zombies, I'm probably not going to incorporate it in a much stronger fashion.**

 **Yeah, I'm making an effort to diversify and incorporate the later gens and movies (along with some of the less related games) into my Orre, along with a little background (given, I haven't played anything after Black/White 2 since I only have a DS Lite).**

 **Yeah, there are probably varying levels of Legendaries.**

 **On the ultra-rare, definite one-off side of things, you have Pokémon like Arceus, Dialga, Palkia, Giratina, Yveltal, Xerneas, Zygarde, Zekrom, Reshiram,Kyurem, and maaaaaybe Mew (thus justifying Team Rocket's interest in cloning it). If one of these somehow beefs it, Arceus 'makes' a new one, not unlike how game!Arceus make can you a new Dialga/Palkia/Giratina from an egg in HG/SS. Usually, if a trainer captures one, it either escapes immediately – because you just tried to shove a god into a small enclosed space – or, if it likes the trainer, it simply outlives them and returns to the wild at that point.**

 **I'm shoving Jirachi and Hoopa into the 'we just don't know' category because honestly, they spend so much time hibernating/sealed away that it's impossible to really tell if there are more than one or what.**

 **On the most common (or at least most prolific), you have Pokémon like Celebi (though the number of Celebi sightings might be somewhat skewed by the fact that it's a Time Travel Pokémon), Cosmog (which eventually evolve into either Lunala or Solgaleo), Manaphy, Phione, and maaaybe Victini. These ones aren't 'perfectly' immortal, but they are longer lived than just about all 'mundane' Pokémon on average, barring accident and human involvement.**

 **There are at least three or four Lugia in existence (there are at least three in the anime canon and I'm adding the Lugia from XD) and I'd give similar numbers to other Legendaries that I haven't otherwise mentioned. They aren't prolific, but they're still terribly rare… but there is probably at least one shiny example of each.**

 **Artificially created Legendary Pokémon like Mewtwo, Genesect, Silvally / Type: Null and the Regis… well, the numbers vary. There are about two or three Mewtwo in the 'verse of this fic, and while I doubt that Genesect or the Regis will show up, a bit of the theory behind their creation might show up elsewhere. There might be an encounter with a Silvally at some point, but who knows? I don't really have much planned at this point and most of that planning happened before Sun and Moon came out.**

 **Delaine's probably a bit more likely to run into Legendaries than the average schmuck, maybe not on Ash's level, but given that she's going against Cipher, which has a number of them captured and corrupted – you only need to look at the cover of XD to see the worst case – and Legendaries have been known to face off against their berserking peers in the anime and the games, it's not unlikely that she'll run into quite a few when she goes after Cipher's Shadow Legendaries.**

* * *

 **Errors And Other Assorted**

* * *

 **Yeah, that chapter did come out before all of the information on Sun and Moon was out (and waaay before the game was released), but if Delaine is anything like me (and considering that this is a self-insert, she is a bit), she's in the habit of picking up shiny things. And almost everything in Orre is literally named after rocks and minerals on account of their (formerly) primary industries being all stone related, so it's kind of fitting that Z-Crystals and Mega Stones could be found in the area, especially in an old mining town.**

 **On Pokémon battles being 'bloodless'… yeah, I can see where you're coming from. I could have said something like pointing out that Vicious' Pokémon were aiming to kill rather than take down. I imagine that there is a bit of blood in the more extreme battles, but cutting through a Tyranitar's hide (I believed noted in canon to be particularly resilient) would be more likely in a fight to the death rather than in a controlled match.**

 **Honestly, I might have just gone in that direction because my dad always liked to browbeat me on the subject of how Pokémon games were pretty much animal pit fights, how dare you enjoy animal abuse… that sort of thing. Plus I don't see how Pokémon battles would be treated in-universe if they were distinctly violent, but you could always argue that battles between trainers are a lot milder than between wild Pokémon, both on account of the Pokémon being trained to understand that this is a 'spar' and the trainers not being out for the other's blood. So, going off of that logic, yes, Vicious's battle is a lot rougher than any that Delaine has seen before.**

 **Wes is not that cool, even though he might think he is. He's sixteen, bad at communicating, and wears edgy clothes in the middle of a desert. Every one of those would be a reason for the universe to slap him down. There are cool things about him, but he really needs to grow into them for him to be legitimately cool. He does have a sweet ride though.**

 **And yes, you could argue that Delaine is 'destined' to get involved in weird shit, but this is less on account of the Aura and more on account of being the subject of a Jumpchain, where the entire 'object' of the exercise – besides survival – is entertaining your 'patron'. Them shoving plot relevancy towards their victims is just the easiest way to do it.**

 **Spoken dialogue is pretty wonky, especially if you're working with real life, not really playing by the rules of grammar. Dialogue is… wonky like that. While it might not flow smoothly, I try to keep it halfway realistic. Which for me, means being clunky, intermittently repetitive, and the most articulate when I'm pissed as hell… at least until I get too mad to string words together, so I end up using expletives as a sort of verbal duct tape. I and people I know have actually said 'pick up a couple [things] while you're in town, okay?', so I kind of worked it in as 'naturalistic' dialogue.**

 **Thanks for the catch on the spelling error, Nevyn. My word program has a semi-automatic autocorrect and I tend to work at high speed and kind of do what feels right at the time… and then find out I made a pretty major typo on a later read /flashbacks to 'sweat potato'.**

 **Someday I might get a beta, but considering the way I go from updating every few days to maybe after three months, I'd be a nightmare to work with.**

 **Maybe once I get this fic done and original stuff stalls out, I might do a rewrite. Heh, now _those_ are some cursed words.**


	8. Chapter 8

We'd all piled onto Wes' bike, Rui riding in the sidecar alongside of me. This only solidified my decision to take my own bike along for the adventure. A little tune up and she'd be able to keep pace with Wes' monster, easy, and it would be infinitely less awkward for everyone involved.

Rui acted as if she had never seen the desert before, despite living in Orre all her life. For all I knew, she hadn't. All of my encounters with her had been during my lessons with Eagun.

"So there's no water out here? At all?" she asked loudly as we flew across the sands, turning her head as we cleared each new dune, trying to pick out some sort of landmark.

There weren't… or at least, there weren't any that you could rely on. There were stone ruins, not unlike the ones around Agate Village, but most of them were long since sandblasted of any murals and any that had internal chambers weren't worth exploring when a dune could swallow them up while you were inside. Some still did, of course, but they were mostly professionals who worked with Digging Pokémon. It still didn't keep the desert from swallowing them up.

Other ruins in parts of Orre that didn't feature so much goddamn sand were more thoroughly explored, with some of the best preserved even being returned to use. The official Orre Colosseum was the best known of these, with its semi-recent return to use holding a bit of promise for drawing tourists.

I'd never seen it in this lifetime, but I remembered the place from the games; not just a sendup to the famous Roman landmark but also a structural mystery in the way five of the 'pillars' curled around the rest of the structure like closing fingers.

Water, though…

"There's the odd oasis and a couple old wells that haven't dried up, but as a rule… no there isn't!" I yelled over the noise of the engine. "That's why it's important to bring plenty of water and to conserve it!"

There were other parts to desert survival, like knowing how to dress for maximum protection and minimum heat stroke, what the ideal times to travel were, and how to make a camp that could stand up to the elements should worst come to worse, but dumping all the information at once on her wouldn't make it stick. Education came piece by piece, not in massive force fed chunks or wrapped up in razor-edged lessons.

Rui stared, her wide eyes very visible behind her Go-Goggles. "How long is it until Pyrite Town?"

"About an hour, hour and a half. Maybe two if we have to go around any big dunes."

She nodded before turning back to watch the barren scenery fly by. It was beautiful, in its own way. The sand of this section of desert was pale, almost silvery gold, and it was a lovely contrast against the clear sky.

None of that made it any less lethal, and there was nothing beautiful about being caught in the middle of a sandstorm, but it was something that always struck me. The contrast between land and sky and the way the reality blurred on the edge between the two. Mere heat mirage, I knew, but it was still… hypnotic. Like the marker in some impossible race against some invisible, intangible opponent, just setting the itch to gun the accelerator running through your fingers.

Other areas of Orre's desert were different – you could find salt flats, canyons, buttes, stretches of nothing but baked clay and cracked stone, swaths of scrub that barely passed for actual vegetation, and color in every shade from pearly white to the velvety black of a long-cooled lava flow – but the shimmering line between land and sky was always easy to find.

I closed my eyes and let the dry desert wind pass over me as I felt the world turn beneath Wes' bike.

Yes, this was some kind of tranquility.

Of course, that tranquility was disrupted as soon as we stepped back into Pyrite Town. There was a brewing argument right outside the unofficial 'gates' between Diaval and Cail. With that green hair and shitty speedsuit with the vaguely congested voice to match, it couldn't have been anyone else.

"Why the fuck are you always going on about Shadow Pokémon?" Diaval snapped as he shoved Cail back. "Mire's stronger, sure, but he still can't even beat Delaine's fucking starter! The damn thing hasn't evolved in five years!"

"Well, that's cause you're a shit trainer _and_ battler! You only win against me 'cause you got a type advantage against Doom!" Cail yelled as he returned the favor, sending Diaval ass first into a pile of sand.

At this point, Officer Johnson came over to stand between the pair of dumbasses, neatly rounding out the local equivalent of the Three Stooges. Which one qualified as 'Moe', well… that was up for debate. Johnson was probably the dumbest, but the other two… eh. Maybe Cail. Maybe.

At this point, I tuned it out the conversation. "Anyway, Rui; welcome to Pyrite Town, home of the sand-dwelling dumbass."

"Don't worry, it's no contagious," Wes said, before adding a completely unreassuring "Probably."

So he was familiar with at least one of the idiots. Good to know.

"Yay," Rui said flatly, "So where are we going?"

"My mom, then Chief Sherles, Duking, and Fateen. Mom first, because she's been worried about me since the lake. Plus I've got some stuff to pick up if we're going to commit to this adventure thing." My motorcycle, my laptop, my tools…

"The fortune teller?" Wes asked, finally looking away from Diaval and Cail's miserable excuse for a fist fight.

I shrugged as I dismounted Wes' bike to open my personal garage slash workshop. Letting Wes' get stolen would have been the height of stupidity, even if it was clearly the property of someone with the designation Not-To-Be-Fucked-With. "She's pretty good at what she does… besides, everybody talks to her at some point in the day. If anyone's been acting suspiciously, Fateen would know before anyone else."

There was plenty of room, since my bike was placed off to the side, covered with a canvas tarp to keep the sand out. Not that it wasn't built for it, but there was a sort of pleasure to being able to do the dramatic unveil, even to an audience of one. This time, I had a little bit more than that, but it could wait until we were ready to go.

"Slide your bike in over here, Wes," I said as I grabbed a loose canvas to cover it with. "I was wondering… does she have a name?"

Wes snorted as he walked his bike to where I had gestured. "That's such a Pyrite Town thing. Where I come from, you don't just name inanimate objects," he said as he kicked down the physical break, turning off the anti-grav to let the motorcycle settle into a properly parked position. "If you have to call it anything, call it the Ultra Beast."

Well, it _fit_ even if it was about as creative as the jokes in an average episode of the Big Bang Theory. I covered the 'Beast' with the canvas, the long exhaust pipes of the engine tenting the material out in eldritch shapes.

"I wouldn't mind having a look around her guts later," I said as I slid the door close again and fit the lock into place, "Your 'Ultra Beast' might be sturdy, but damn if she doesn't rumble like an rock slide."

"Well, look who's back in town."

My smile fell off of my face. "Frick," I muttered before turning around to face Diaval and Cail. "What do you two want?"

Diaval folded his arms across his chest. "What do you think? A battle. A double, to be pacific."

"Dude, it's 'specific'," Cail whispered.

"Shut the fuck up," Diaval muttered back before raising his voice again, "Cail is my wingman."

As far as the fucker knew, I only had one Pokémon to my name, barring an emergency borrow from my mom. Maybe their plan was to have me lose face by forfeiting, maybe it was to simply outnumber my starter.

Instead, I smiled. "Cool. Rui, Wes, which one of you wants to help make these two eat pavement?"

* * *

The Duel Square was seemed awful small today. Possibly a side-effect of having a larger Pokémon in my party, not that I'd be telling these idiots. Not until I could see the looks on their faces when I whipped out a fucking Tyranitar.

Diaval pulled out his Psyduck. The fumbling duck stumbled for a moment, staring around at all the people before giving a questioning look to its owner.  
"The hell are you looking at?" the punk snapped, "It's a battle!"

How anyone let this jackass keep his Pokémon… different world, different standards, I told myself as I forcibly unclenched my teeth. Not that the casual abuse didn't piss me off. Nobody else I knew in this lift did that to Pokémon.

"Give 'em a break, man," Cail muttered, barely audible across the distance, "Psyduck, constant headaches, ring a bell?"

"Fuck off and leave the preachiness to Little Miss Better Than You."

"Everybody's better than you, dumbass," I yelled as I pulled Leven's Pokéball off of my belt and releasing my starter onto the field. "Besides," I added as the red light turned into Leven's new and bigger form, "I think I still owe you an asskicking for what you did to your starter."

"So you evolved your starter, Delaine," Cail pulled down his goggles as he sent out his own starter. A Houndoom. If I'd been alone, this might have been the breaker – hell, it _had_ been plenty of times before –, though Tyranitar would have leveled the field immensely. But with Wes… well, I wasn't as concerned about typing now. "What the heck is it, some kind of uppity hipster hooter?"

Leven bristled as Wes sent out Zener, the Espeon looking like divinity just by sitting across the field from the hellhound. The only way the contrast could have been sharper would be if Wes had a Sylveon pocketed somewhere.

"You're working with the guy who started out with a small water blob with a wonky face and ended up with a bigger water blob with an even wonkier face," I reminded him, "Of the options, who do you think is worse off? Leven, use Leafage on Psyduck!"

"Striker, use Flamethrower!"

My starter weaved out of the way, the gout of flame passing by the Grass-type harmlessly before he pulled his wings in close to his body. The Dartrix spun like that for a moment before whipping his wings out again, green leaves exploding out in a gust of faintly luminous wind to pelt the Psyduck before ramming his head into the poor Pokémon almost as an afterthought.

Was the Headbutt strictly necessary? Probably not, but Leven had done it anyway and it was a minor miracle that the Psyduck was still standing after it.

"Psyduck, use –" The Psyduck spit up an impossible amount of water, soaking Leven.

"DON'T USE SOAK YOU STUPID –" Diaval screamed at his Pokémon, only for the Psyduck to clutch its head before falling over unconscious.

"Diaval's Hyper Voice was super effective," I muttered, "You going to recall your Psyduck or what?"

The teen bared his teeth at us. "You think I have time for worthless Pokémon like this?" he asked, holding the empty Pokéball in his hand. He threw it down to the ground and lifted up his foot.

He wasn't going to –

Diaval brought down his boot, shattering the Pokéball into tiny pieces of plastic, ceramic, and metal, the crystal mirrors and lenses of the inner mechanism scattering into atomized dust. "I DON'T!"

Rui ran over to the unconscious Pokémon, cradling it with more affection than the Psyduck was treated with in its entire life. The rest of us settled for staring in shock.

Oh my god.

Even Cail was taken aback by the action. "Dude," he murmured, "the duck's a Water-type. It's gonna die–"

"Well then it should have been stronger!" Diaval said as he pulled out another Pokéball. Mire. "Pokémon that can't win battles wouldn't live for long in the wild, why should I put up with their worthlessness?"

Cail steadied himself. "Dude… Diaval. That's not cool. I can't –"

"So what if you don't like it! So long as you finish this battle with me, I don't care what you do after!" With that, Diaval threw his last ball, leaving his Quagsire to take over the field with a muddy squawk.

Y'know what? Fuck him. Fuck this.

I recalled Leven and reached for the Tyranitar's ball. "Cail, I'm giving you the chance to fuck the fuck off _right now_ , because I have reached the kind of breaking point that you really don't want to be on the other end of."

Cail stared at me before recalling his Striker and running back away from the battle.

"Coward!" Diaval screamed after his retreating 'partner'. "You get back here and help me –"

The shouting cut off as my Tyranitar's shadow rose over him as the light turned into a mountain of scales and flesh. There were still a few shallow 'cuts' where the Pokémon had been cut by Vicious' Scizor, but they'd already scarred over, leaving nothing but another tick on the category of 'intimidation display'.

Diaval and his Quagsire looked up slowly, their heads slowly rotating up and back as their eyes went from staring at the Pokémon's clawed toes to a slow pan up the Tyranitar's front to settle on the sight of a very toothy, very unimpressed face glaring down at them.

"Tyranitar," I said, staring down at the trainer who didn't deserve the title, "use Stomp."

Mire never stood a chance. It was almost cartoonish the way the Quagsire's body squashed and bounced under the blow, but the minor earthquake that shook the ground all around was a testament to my Tyranitar's raw power. I'd have to be careful using him in battles; there was suddenly the threat of accidentally breaking through the layer of rock and the hundred foot drop that separated Pyrite Town from the Under.

Still, despite the massive blow, Mire was still conscious… or at least I thought it was. It was hard to tell with the whole permanently blank expression and totally unblinking thing going on. One of its arms twitched forward.

My Tyranitar looked down at me, as it asking me if I wanted him to do it again.

"Just…" I gestured helplessly before holding my index finger and my thumb half a centimeter apart. "…Stomp him a little. We don't want it dead."

My Tyranitar gave a barely detectable eye roll, but went with it, bringing its massive foot down on the Quagsire slowly but firmly, leaving the Water-type to do nothing but flail its stumpy blob arms and bleat muddily from where it was pinned.

"Wes."

Wes nodded and threw a Snag Ball. It bounced off of Mire's head, reducing the Pokémon to defuse particles of light that were quickly sucked up into the ball. It didn't resist for long, rocking only twice before giving the signal of a completed capture.

Diaval stared at the sudden absence of his Pokemon. "W-what? What the fuck was that?"

I wanted to go up to him and punch him in his stupid, goggle-wearing face, but somehow every ounce of cataclysmic rage thrumming through my heart had transcended itself to become something cold and indifferent to his existence.

I recalled my Pokémon, turned away from Diaval, and started walking towards the police building.

"What are you doing?" Wes asked.

"Sherles," I said flatly.

"The police?" he asked, incredulous, "I thought we were going to your mom's first, not turning ourselves in."

"Let's go with I don't want to be arrested and even if Johnson is about as much a threat as the average flyswatter, Sherles hasn't been Chief for the last thirty years for nothing. He won't fuck us over for Diaval being a piece of shit," I replied as we reached the building. It was vomit green, with the faded caution stripes across a few panels scavenged from a large piece of machinery that nobody alive really remembered… well, except for maybe Fateen or Sherles himself.

* * *

Chief Sherles Hedge was at his desk in the front room, thumbing through a file. He was an older man, but in a world where Pokémon did most of the heavy lifting, that didn't mean as much as it might have in my first life. If I had to describe him in a five words or less, I would say 'Sherlock Holmes as a cop'. Given, I'd never heard of a Holmes with a handlebar moustache or a uniform of any description beyond that which was embedded into the public consciousness, but no analogy was perfect.

One think I could say with certainty was that if there was a Sherles for every town in Orre, we wouldn't have the reputation for crime that we did. Part of that was skill on his part, but the other part was simply because the only other cop in Orre was Johnson and he was three fatal fuck-ups away from being a good contender for the nickname 'Bloody Stupid'.

"Delaine?" Sherles asked as he finally noticed us across from his desk. "You didn't get in another fight, did you?"

"It's a long story. Do you want the cliff-notes or the extended version?"

The chief leaned forward, blue eyes drilling through mine like lasers. "The extended version, if you don't mind. I heard something about you getting kidnapped last week."

This was going to be fun. "Yes, I was. I found out that Diaval had his starter made into a Shadow Pokémon… have you heard any –"

"Yes, we've gotten quite a few complaints about the behavior of the Pokémon being distributed through the Colosseum. Not enough to convince them to shut it down, not that they'd listen, but enough to establish there's an issue," Sherles said, gesturing to the papers around him, "You say Diaval has one? How can you tell?"

"Had, but we'll get to that part after a bit," I said before pointing at my eye, "It's Aura, like an extrasensory ability, among other things. You know how my mom used to take me out to Agate Village for a week or so at a time so I could take lessons from Eagun, right? That's why I can pick them out."

I sighed as I moved on to the actual story. "So some guys, probably working up at the Colosseum, heard that I could see which Pokémon where Shadow Pokémon and kidnapped me to take to their boss. Why, I don't know. Probably to figure out how I did it or to keep the secret clammed up for a while. They got me to Phenac City…"

"Phenac?"

Yeah, nobody ever suspected clean, sparkly bright Phenac to be the headquarters of some kind of supervillain. "Phenac City, yeah. I managed to scream for help and Wes here," I nudged the silver-haired boy in question, "rescued me."

That netted Wes an appraising look before the razor gaze of Sherles turned back to me. "I hope you told your mother about this."

"Yeah, Wes drove me back the first day and we told her," I said, waving the concern off. "It's the stuff that happened later that's the real heavy sh-crap."

"Nice catch," Wes muttered sarcastically as Sherles motioned for me to continue talking.

"So we spent the night at my mom's and went out to Agate, because if anyone would know anything about Shadow Pokémon, I would think Eagun would," I said, "So we get out to Agate Village, and Eagun's being attacked by this team of poachers."

"Snagem?" the chief asked.

"Cipher, but they hired a guy that might have worked with Snagem before. His name was Vicious," I grimaced. "We battled him a couple of times, first to save Eagun and then at a lake by a sacred stone in the forest. He captured a Celebi…"

"A Legendary Pokémon?"

"Are there other kinds of Celebi I haven't heard about?" I asked flippantly. "But we defeated him and stole it back. It's _kind of_ a Shadow Pokémon at the moment, but we're working on it. Anyway, after that I was like in a coma for a few days –"

Sherles was suddenly gripping his chair like his life depended on it.

"– but then I woke up and we came back here. We were going to go to my mom's but then Diaval and Cail got all up in our faces and challenged us to a Pokémon battle," I said, the words falling out of my mouth quickly. I'd hit some sort of obscene stride, accelerating as I approached the finish line of my speech. "So we did, but he released his Psyduck after Leven knocked it out and then he brought out Mire, which was the Shadow Pokémon I saw first, and my Tyranitar kicked its ass and then we snagged it. Then we came here."

There was an awkward silence.

"The End," I finished.

Sherles reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "So what you're saying is that you somehow have the ability to detect Shadow Pokémon…"

"Yep."

"…and you've decided that the best way to deal with them is to steal them from their trainers?" he finished.

I bit my lip. "Well, only if they're abusive or neglectful. The condition seems to lessen if the Pokémon is being treated decently, so I mean there's no reason to take them away from a trainer that cares about them. We might have to take them to the Memori Stone to help dispel the damage once and for all, but other than that…"

"So Diaval has no Pokémon right now."

"Nope." And that was no skin off of my nose. The guy didn't even deserve an inanimate pet rock.

"You have his Quagsire?"

"Mire? Yes." He was in one of Wes' belt pouches right now.  
"Would you give it back to him?"

"Hell. No."

Chief Sherles sighed.

Wes stared ahead blankly as the door to the police station shut behind us. "I can't believe we're not arrested."

"I can't believe Sherles actually wanted a Quagsire," I said.

"That's what you focus on?"

Before the snipe-fest could really start, Rui ran up to us, Diaval's former Psyduck in her arms. It looked a lot perkier than before, though that didn't speak to much considering what it was in the first place. Had she taken it to the PokéCenter or just let it have a nap while we were expositing to the police?

"I'm adopting her," she declared, "Her name is Floyd."

The freshly dubbed 'Floyd' waved a wing at us.

Somehow, I wasn't surprised, but I wasn't disappointed either. "Welcome to the team, Floyd," I said, reaching down the shake its weird wing-hand.

* * *

A **uthor's Note**

* * *

 **SORRY ABOUT TAKING SO LONG ON THE UPDATE (of course considering that some people have much longer gaps between new chapters, I really shouldn't be losing my mind over twenty days but still…) I was kind of sick for a while and there was writing block and just general suck going on.**

 **During my coherent periods, I've been having some fun plotting out future events for both parts of these fics (ALONG WITH COOKING UP HEADCANONS OH MY GOD). There's a danger of getting too into the planning and forgetting to actually write the thing but I'm feeling some good energy and slightly more professional just doing it that way. There are a few difficulties, like how I'm going to go about Wes, Delaine, and Rui going around stealing Shadow Pokémon. Explaining everything to Sherles and getting official/unofficial police permission is one thing, but the police force doesn't count for much in Orre. Most of the problem would probably be from various cities figuring out that the thefts are connected and forming a posse to hunt our heroes down… or at least act as a sort of community watch to beat the crap out of them the next time they came to town.**

* * *

 **Potential Paradox always leaves these really long, really good reviews on my stuff, picking out threads and points that I've kind of glossed over or missed myself. Usually when I'm answering a question or explaining a thing in the Author's Notes, it's a point that Paradox brought up or something I realized when answering one of those questions. I love long reviews that like make me think about the tale I've been spinning.**

* * *

 **Bloody Stupid Johnson is a small reference to the late Terry Pratchett and his Discworld books. I highly recommend them, not only because they're hilarious and full of high quality puns, but also because the stories are godlike.**

* * *

 **Pokémon Nicknames**

* * *

 **Striker the Houndoom has not only kind of a 'generic' dog name, it's one of the names given to the legendary 'black dogs' of the British Isles, at least according to Wikipedia. 'Black dogs' are – well, mostly, I imagine that black dogs do exist around the world and that some of them are strays that would be out at night – supernatural creatures usually associated with bad luck. The Hound of the Baskervilles, Black Shuck, and the Grim would be examples.**

 **Floyd is Floyd, mostly because it sounded good. Floyd the boyd.**

 **I'm still thinking about what to call the Tyranitar, because someone pointed out that the way that I've kind of established its personality, it's kind of like Roronoa Zoro and I'm just like '…yaaaas' but I also kind of like some other previous nicknames I threw out for it. /sigh…**

 **Zorilla. Goro. Yes. His name is (going to be) Goro, not only because of 'Zoro' and 'Gojira', but also because Goro Goro is the Japanese onomatopoeia for big things rolling around, like a rockslide, lightning and ominous weather, the sound of purring, and – according to the Jaded Network – lazing around.**

 **So yeah, that works for him.**

* * *

 **The Battle**

* * *

 **It was going to be longer, with two effective 'rounds' and more Pokemon displayed and shown off. But then it came to Diaval's Psyduck and I can't see Cail (who I've ended up writing as a bit nicer than he is in the game, as compared to Diaval, who got an upgrade from 'rando Shadow Pokémon trainer' to being a real jackass) being able to tolerate someone he doesn't really like in the first place being so pointlessly cruel to a Pokémon that will literally die without a decent source of water nearby.**

 **Plus I think that it's a halfway established thing – like not out-and-out but heavily implied – that Delaine, even before the story started, had a history of starting fights with bullies in town, both Pokémon battles and physical altercations. I just kind of** realized that now, but between her temper (at least in this fic of the series) and her automatic disgust for Pokémon abuse, it's kind of a natural conclusion.


	9. Chapter 9

"Owowowowowow!"

"YOU FORGOT RUI IN THE MIDDLE OF TOWN!" my mom yelled as she pulled at my cheeks even harder. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED TO HER?"

I was familiar with cheek pinches, sure, but my previous experience was just ancient, some-how related aunts pinching and prodding with ridiculously long and sharp nails. What my mom was doing hurt more, and it was way worse for having an audience.

Aura adept schooled by her mother, cries like little bitch all the way.

"But the PokéCenter was right there –" my mom twisted again, setting me squirming. "AAAAA I'M SORRY I'MSORRYI'MSORRY!"

She gave my sore cheeks one final pinch before letting go of my face. "So long as you've learned your lesson," she said before turning to the others. "Are you two staying for dinner?"

Wes was staring at my mom with a pale sort of dread written all over his face while Rui just smiled. "As long as it isn't too much trouble," she replied.

"Why would it be? You're practically family anyway, Rui," my mom said as she walked by the pair, reaching up to give Wes a pat on the shoulder almost as an afterthought. "And you don't need to look so scared either, Wes. It's not like you knew anything about the situation, right?"

He swallowed. "I guess… not?"

"Good boy."

For a woman just under fifty and barely scraping past five foot three, my mom could really put the fear into people. I almost smiled as I thought it, but the fact that my face still hurt prevented me from making the expression.

I sighed as I sank into the living room sofa, a little bit of sand puffing up as I settled in. It was fairly comfortable besides that inescapable detail.

Tired. I thought I'd escaped that sensation when I'd come into this life, but no. The explicable tiredness that followed depression around like an oversized puppy had just waited for me to slow down enough for its return to send me down to the ground.

Maybe it was just a fact of brain chemistry that I'd never be able to outrun. Maybe my wholly fucked history had turned into the kind of scar tissue that was past all possible stages of healing outside of divine intervention.

Either way, I wanted to sleep for a century. Maybe it would stop if I just closed my eyes for a second...

"Delaine!" my mom yelled, shaking my shoulder.

I slipped through the initial waking confusion to full awareness almost instantly. "What? What?"

My mom let go of my shoulders, smoothing out some imaginary wrinkles in her shirt. "You fell asleep a few hours ago, but you wouldn't wake up," she said.

"I was just tired, mom," I said, trying to get my heartrate back down to where it wasn't trying to hammer through my chest.

"That's not like you."

I sighed as I stood up and brushed the dust off of my pants. What is 'like me', then? I couldn't think of anything that stood out besides 'too dumb to quit' and 'vaguely disappointing'. "Anyway, did you need anything?"

Mom didn't look overly comforted by my subject change, but she didn't fight it. "Wes mentioned that you have some new Pokémon? And that Leven evolved?"

I nodded, grabbing my starter's Pokéball and releasing him. The Dartrix quickly settled in on top of a floor lamp, like he had when he'd been smaller, only to find it quickly overbalancing. As he jumped off to a find a perch that could take his new weight, I grabbed the light before it could fall over.

"Allow me to present Dartrix; the Dingus Bird Pokémon," I snarked.

Leven fluffed in displeasure, before going about the business of smoothing his feathers back down. Was that his way of ignoring me? Heh.

I touched the other balls at my side. "As for the others… well, I think Tyranitar is a little big for the living room and the other…" I bit my tongue. No, Celebi didn't need to be crowded and putting a cute Pokémon in front of anyone was practically inviting someone to get too close too fast.

Mom stared. "You have a Tyranitar?"

I scratched the back of my head. "Yeah… how much did Eagun tell you about what happened…?"

"That there were Pokémon poachers after a local Legendary and that you almost drowned stopping them."

"That's… not wrong," I said through my teeth, "but it's a little bit more complicated than that… actually, a lot more complicated…"

Mom sighed. "There's a Team involved, isn't there. Like Snagem or that Rocket gang over in Kanto," she said before she shook her head, "and you're getting involved. I should have known."

What I wouldn't give to disappear. "Mom…" I started, stretching out my hand.

"That wasn't a one-time thing was it? You're thinking of risking your life, over and over… and for what? Pokémon. My little girl is willing to die for a Pokémon. I'm not sure how I feel about that."

My hand fell. "If that's how you feel about it, I won't bother you with it then," I said as I turned away to go to my room. I had things to pack.

* * *

Junk, books, junk, homemade Pokéballs – not quite up to store-bought quality, but they worked –, junk, one of my smaller tool kits… well, why not, junk, books, books… my laptop wasn't junk, so that could come along too. My bag was deceptively big, and some part of me wondered if it was somehow bottomless. Impossible, but hey, I was living in a world that had only existed for me in video games and anime, so who was I to be throwing rocks at that particular glass house?  
Besides I didn't want to think right now. I wanted a nice, safe, mindless task to throw myself into where I didn't have to talk or feel anything.

There was a knock at my door.

I ignored it as I started going through my clothes, stuffing them into a half-way appropriate pocket. I probably wouldn't need all of them, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Delaine?"  
Ignoring you.

"Delaine, I know you're in there."

I set down a glass paperweight carefully, trying to ignore the tremble in my hands.

"Delaine, I just want to talk."

Leave me alone. Please.

There was a beeping from one of the Pokéballs at my hip. Leven…? No, he was still out in the living room. I pulled the ball free and read the etching on the side.

Celebi.

The ball beeped again, signaling the Pokémon's desire to come out.

Why? Was I being that annoying that even a Pokémon in its ball could feel it?

I pressed the release and red-white light poured out into the shape of the Psychic/Grass-type. As soon as it was fully material, it tilted its head at me.

"Bi?"

I wiped my eyes. "I'm alright."

I'm just an emotional train wreck that hates myself not matter what I do, even if it's the 'right' thing. Hell, right now I was too fucked up to even get a read on Celebi's Aura and the Pokémon was hovering right in front of me.

The Pokémon in question hovered a little closer, its stare feeling like a condemnation.

Why am I lying?

"Okay, I'm not alright," I relented, "I'm a mentally-ill person with a brain wired towards panic, sadness, and self-loathing who's caught between doing what's right and disappointing my mom, which I never wanted to do but I'm going to end up doing anyway. Of course I'm upset. I'm… allowed to be upset. I know that but… I don't _feel_ it."

The room was silent save for the nearly silent buzz of Celebi's wings.

I sighed, dragging my hand back through my hair. "Why am I dumping this on you? You have enough problems on your own."

'Maybe I just wanted to help.'

I jerked back at the voice, slamming my back into the dresser, before staring at Celebi. "That was you?"

Celebi smiled – no, wait, it was lopsided. That was a smirk. 'No, it was your bedside lamp speaking to you through the dulcet tones of Paul McGann.'

"Well, how much experience with Legendary Pokémon do you think I have?" I asked. Smug, sassy little Onion Fairy. "I've been bullshitting it since we've met."

'And doing quite well at it too, for someone with such a contradictory consciousness,' Celebi replied, flicking my forehead with its antennae. 'Feeling a little better now?'

I did, though how long it would last was always up in the air. It could be anywhere from days to weeks to even a year before I'd be ready for another meltdown, and that was wholly disregarding what actually happened between now and then.

'It's completely understandable for you to be having this difficulty, between your past and your current situation…'

I gave the Psychic Pokémon a look. 'Reading my mind, are you?' I thought pointedly. It felt like there was only a hair of distinction between it and my own natural mental muttering, but I hoped that the intent to throw my 'voice' would make the difference between the two.

'Ever since the Lake, really,' Celebi confirmed, 'So far as content and tone are concerned, you are an infinitely better read than that… Vicious character was.'

The Pokémon shuddered and I couldn't disagree. Anyone who would take a sentient being and do to it what Cipher's Shadow Pokémon technology did… wasn't a being in full possession of a soul.

But that wasn't all I had to think about. Was the mind reading why it had relaxed so quickly? Just… parsing through my thoughts as casually as one would a magazine in a waiting room? How did I feel about that? The results were good, but the violation of my privacy…

'Still, it was that little speech you made to me at the Memori Stone that made me decide… that yes, I would go along with this trainer. Even if half of your experience is from video games and highly stylized _anime_.'

"Heh," I murmured, "Sweets and crying, the way to a minor deity's heart."

'Only when given honestly. And who are you calling 'minor'?' Celebi asked half-seriously, 'I'll have you know that in my field, I am only second to Dialga.'

"The Time Travel Onion Fairy versus the Temporal Dragon of the Creation Trio, I wouldn't call that a 'close-second'," I said, "seeing as all Dialga needs to win is _step_ on you."

'Mmm, that would put a bit of a damper on the proceedings,' the tiny Legendary agreed, 'Are you going to talk to your mother?'

I should. I really should. But what if –

'Well, I'll invite her in then.'

No, wait you little shit –

The door clicked open before sliding into the wall.

'Too late!'

My mom stepped into my room, deftly avoiding the various mess as she saw me sitting in front of the dresser. The fact that a Legendary Pokémon was practically sitting in my lap wasn't even commented on. She just knelt down beside me.

"Delaine…"

I turned my head away. "No matter what you say, I'm going," I said.

"I know," she said, wrapping an arm over my shoulder, "You've… I always figured you were going to go off someday after someone hurting Pokémon. Always figured it would have been that Diaval boy instead of criminal syndicate, but… I suppose I'm just scared of losing you."

I bit my lip before leaning into the half-hug. "You can't hold onto me forever."

"I know… I know," she murmured into my hair, "I'm just scared. You almost died and now you want to go out and risk your life again."

"Things are bad enough that somebody has to."

* * *

I stepped out of the house, ignoring the blast of sand as 'wind' was reintroduced to my world. Leven was walking at my side, not entirely pleased with his sudden loss of shoulder-sitting privileges. Starter or not, thirty-pounds of weight applied directly to my shoulder by a pair of pointy talons wasn't a page in my 'good times' playbook.

Celebi was less bothered, but the ability to hover at any desired height was hardly one that required a lot of work.

'So this is the desert,' it said as it looked around our 'yard'. 'I don't like it.'

"You're a forest adapted Grass-type. The only thing I'm surprised about is how you've managed to avoid it for the three thousand years it's been here," I replied, looking around for Wes and Rui. Apparently they'd come outside to train sometime around my nap.

A small blue and creamy-yellow shape blurred past my legs and climbed up my body to rest on my shoulder, consolidating into a Minun before launching itself outwards again, right into the face of a familiar Espeon.

Zener squawked as he faceplanted into the sand and the Electric Mouse darted off to harass someone else. Behind them, Rui was going through some sort of tai chi kata with her Riolu, a Sneasel and a Scizor – Wes' latest acquisitions – following the same motions while Wes just watched from the rusted out remains of an engine block.

"So you've finally woken up," he said, "You spend a lot of time sleeping."

"Just when I'm tired," I replied, "How's Rui doing?"

Wes shrugged. "Decent, but she should really get a Plusle to back up her Minun. Her Riolu isn't over serious about battling either, but Agate Village probably isn't a serious battling place." He turned back to observe the 'exercise group'. "Still, she's pretty good with Pokémon. Might have something to do with her grandparents being Pikachu breeders."

"Her mom works with the local Pokémon professor too, so Rui probably gets pointers from all sides," I said, tossing him juice box. It was a tossup as to if he got the Aloe, Mango, or Raspberry Punch box, but all were ultimately survivable flavors.

"Orre has a Pokémon professor?" Wes asked as he poked the straw through the appropriate hole.

"Barely. The way Eagun tells it, Acacia's mostly here because he doesn't feel like going anywhere more populated. That and the Holon group won't let him within their city limits."

Wes looked contemplative for a moment. "You think we should go talk to this 'Acacia' guy, then?"

It wasn't necessarily a bad idea, but… "I think we need a little more evidence to throw on his doorstep before he'll let us in," I said, "I think we could drag some up around here if Sherles decides that we're in the right here."

"You think he might not?"

I shrugged. "Not really. He's pretty swift with reading behavior, people and Pokémon-wise, but it's easier to pick out Shadow Pokémon with Aura and as far as I've been told, Chief Sherles doesn't have it, but dumber things have happened in the history of the world..."

Wes took a sip out of his juice box and almost spat. "What the hell is this?" he asked, lifting it up to look at it. "'Mango'?" he read, pronouncing the word almost cartoonish-ly wrong.

"What's wrong with it? Is it past its expiration date or what?"

"It's too sweet!" the ex-criminal gagged as he tried to scrape his tongue off with his teeth, "Gah, it's like drinking cough syrup!"

"Hey, cough syrup is twenty times shittier than that mango fruit juice, in terms of both taste and texture!" I snapped.

"What's going on?" Rui asked as she walked over, all the Pokemon following her with vaguely confused expressions.

"Delaine gave me ass-flavored sugar water!" Wes whined.

"It's just mango fruit juice," I muttered.

"Is that all?" she asked.

"The taste is sticking to my tongue."

'Not my favorite, but it's not bad,' Celebi chimed in as it slurped down Wes' abandoned juice.

I shook my head. "Anyway, I brought one for you, Rui, so you can have Aloe or Raspberry Pun –"

"Oooh, Raspberry!" Rui said, taking that juice box out of my hands before I could even finish speaking.

At least _someone_ appreciated the gesture.

"Anyway, if either you need me, I'm going to be out in my garage checking over my bike," I said, "I don't know when we're going to be going out on the road again, but it doesn't hurt to give her a once-over every now and then, 'specially living out here in the Dust Bowl."

* * *

I slid open the door, ignoring Wes' bike. I wasn't here for that.

I was here for mine, the one that was tucked over in the corner under another, infinitely less distorted canvas. I grabbed the edge of the tarp and pulled, twisting my wrist halfway through the action.

In another universe, one might have mistaken my bike for a battered classic, a possible holdover from some decades dead war. A more discerning eye might have been able to pick out the vestiges of certain designs from companies long since sunk, a mingling of utility, style, and speed that lurked beneath sand-faded paint. One thing that most people would agree on is that – at least compared to most of the other bikes in town – she wasn't much to look at, being an ancient bike with faded and chipping brown, grey, and tan paint occasionally teasing at an original coat of seafoam blue.

I, on the other hand, knew her from the tread on up.

Her engine was carefully cleaned and restored, with what couldn't be out and out replaced with 'real' parts instead fixed with what me and my mom could cook up on our own. The thumb-sized red dots on the side of the fuel tank was my primary addition to her paint job, besides smoothing out the edges of the existing mess and putting a clear varnish over them. The leather I'd used to restore the seat was a deliberate choice after that, the error the dyer had made making the purchase actually affordable while still fitting in with my chosen 'inspiration' for the bike.

A Relicanth.

Oh, I wouldn't say my bike was slow – she could probably match Wes' for speed and out run him on pure maneuverability if given the same kind of terrain –, but 'invincible'… definitely. The only way I could possibly improve her at this point would be to add anti-grav, which I simply didn't have access to in Pyrite Town.

I smiled as I drew my hand along the fuel tank and seat. Yes, a lot of work had gone into this bike and nearly all of it mine… or this life's me. The first me I remembered being hadn't been good with electronics or mechanics… or much else beyond not dying, really.

It was kind of hard to draw the line between the two. We had the same name, the same face, the same… general self. But there were enough differences to make it feel like I was crammed into an ill-fitting skin, two sizes too small for my bones.

I sat down on the ground, sliding open one of my favored tool kits as I set to work.

'What's the appeal, riding one of these things?' Celebi asked as it planted himself between the handlebars, watching me at work down below.

I took in and released my breath, letting the memory of wind rushing past me as the world flew at blinding speeds just beneath my feet. "It's the closest I can get to flying under my own power," I said after a moment of savoring the memory of a hundred different drives all blended together into _an experience_. "Plus, y'know, get places faster. Stylishly."

'Delaine, you modeled it after a Relicanth, possibly the least interesting of all the ancient Pokémon. There's only so much style you can manage off of those parameters.'

"Hey, there are less cool Pokémon I could have worked with," I said, pointing a socket wrench at Celebi, "Like a Piloswine, a Wingull, or… or a Wooper."

'That's me told,' the Grass-type said unconvincingly as it kicked its feet back and forth. 'So you're really committed to stopping Cipher.'

I didn't look up from my work. "Yep."

'Even if it might kill you.'

"It might, yes."

'Is that because you want to die or…?'

I stopped to look up. "I'm not interested in dying," I said, "I have bad days, but dying isn't the answer to my problems. You've been inside my head, you know my twisted logic."

'I know more about your favorite TV shows than your thought process,' Celebi replied, 'but I am interested in keeping you as safe as possible.'

"The feeling is mutual, even if I'm infinitely more limited in my methods," I replied as I went back to my work, checking the oil. Perfectly fine, as expected. "And you don't have to worry. Between me, Wes, and Rui, Cipher doesn't stand a chance."

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

* * *

 **As usual, sorry about the lack of activity (though I understand that even with the delays, I'm still way faster than the average). Depression isn't kicking my ass as thoroughly as usual, but it's still there.**

 **To those of you who follow both stories in this 'series', it's going to be a bit of time before I update the Doctor Who one, and that'll be an appeasement while I attempt a re-write on that section (to account for characterization shifts in this fic and a few other things).**

* * *

 **On The Subject Of Celebi**

* * *

 **The Pokémon movies and anime are really, really skittery on the subject of how good Pokémon are at communicating with humans. More than a few Legendaries are capable of telepathic speech (off the top of my head; Mewtwo, Lugia, Entei (created through the power of Unknown and a child's imagination, so kind of a half-point), Jirachi).**

 **There's no reason why Celebi wouldn't be able to do the same, but making Celebi's mental 'voice' Paul McGann (a fantastic actor, really great as the Eighth Doctor in the two filmed appearances and the however many hundred Big Finish audios he's done by now) is kind of me having fun, partially because Celebi's spoken 'voice' in the anime is really a chirpy and harmless sort of sound while Paul McGann is… definitely not that.**

 **Plus, it just makes me kind of tingly giving the Time Travel Pokemon (one of) the premier Time Travel characters in all media's voice(s).**

* * *

 **The Blessing Of The Bikes**

* * *

 **Bikes are important in Pyrite Town, at least in my version of Orre. It's the primary transportation in Orre, though other motorvehicles are available, and most individuals have their own, almost always customized. Not always to proper 'itansha' levels, but most of the owners are identifiable by bike build and design alone.**

 ***'Itansha' is the motorcycle equivalent of 'itasha' – direct translation apparently being 'painful car' –, which is a… thing in Japan where certain individuals cover their cars with fictional characters, usually 'moe' girls from manga and video games. I've learned not to ask why people do those sort of things.**

 **I'm kind of making that the 'thing' for Pyrite Town. Since in canon they have a – mostly undeserved – reputation for being full of near-do-wells and ruffians, biker culture seemed to fit right. If I do a rewrite (I kind of want to at some point for all the stuff in the series, but it'll probably wait until I've got a few stories in it actually finished), I might make a point of there being 'chapters' and various patches locals wear for different symbolic meanings.**

 **Usually there's a little more thought put into the process of naming and styling a bike than what Wes did, but he's from the Under and 'sentiment for replaceable things' isn't really an encouraged mindset. Still, his bike being called 'Ultra Beast' is kind of meaningful; it's a strange mashup of familiar and unfamiliar design, much bigger and overpowered than any kind motorcycle normally found in Orre, featuring not only parts not usually associated with motorcycles (the anti-grav, the diesel engine), but coming out of nowhere to baffle and terrify most of the normal citizenry (Wes and his Snag Machine, at least when he was working with Snagem).**

* * *

 **Delaine's Relicanth Bike Plus Few Other Things**

* * *

 **The designs of the bike are – at least intended to be – pulled from a few different motorcycle companies circa 1920 – 1950, particularly Vincent Motorcycles and Indian Motorcycle Manufacturing Company with a motorcycle seen in the beginning of Pokémon 4Ever for a canon comparison.**

 **If someone familiar with that movie points out that that particular scene takes place 40 years before the 'current' time in the Pokémon world, I'd counter with the fact that I've been writing Orre as a place where technology is decades behind that in other parts of the world, for both economical and practical reasons. Not like the technology in Pokémon is overly consistent anyway. Just look at some of those Gym layouts.**

 **For example, Delaine's PokéGear is the weird baby of the TA-312 Field Telephone (used by the U.S. Military from the 1950's to the 1980's), a boombox (80's), personal GPS (modern), electronic calendar (modern), and hyper-efficient solar/shake battery (technically possible with modern tech but not actually extant at the moment), all made for the kind of climate and (lack of) economy that Orre is defined by. It's not massive, but the fact that it's more practical to attach to a bag than carry on its own does lay out how big it is.**

 **In comparison, a 'canon' PokéGear, as is seen in the artwork of Gen II and its subsequent remakes, is a little bit clunkier than the average smartphone while still not being as big as my version of the same device, but also comes with the consideration that it is built for an environment where sandstorms, volcanic activity, and electromagnetic disturbances (it'll come up later, let's just leave it at me doing some work with Orre's map in my fic) aren't really there to fuck up your signal, battery, and/or everything else.**

 **Orre does have a 'canon' PokéGear/PokéNav equivalent called a P*DA (yes, really), but it is literally the ugliest chrome piece of shit with fifty thousand sliding and fold-out pieces and I have decided to disregard it completely.**

 **One area that Orre does have an edge on most other places through is anti-grav / hover technology. Wes' bike is one canon example, as Michael's – Mica in this fic – scooter, which you literally have to get upgraded in the game to be able to cross the main desert, and a literal UFO in the Under that you need to use to access different areas down there. So, in general, it's an area that they have because it's a necessity to living there, because most other region's solution to quick, region-wide transportation – read; trains – gave them all of one thing; the fucking Outskirt Stand, which is a diner someone converted out of a broken-down rusted wreck of said train.**

* * *

 **Deleted Scene – My Only Excuse Is That I Was Running A Fever When I Wrote This**

* * *

 **My bike was to the side, covered with a canvas tarp to keep the sand out. Not that it wasn't built for it, but there was a sort of pleasure to being able to do the dramatic unveil, even to an audience of one. This time, I had a little bit more than that.**

 **I grabbed the edge of the tarp and pulled, twisting my wrist halfway through the action. "Allow me to present–"**

 **My bike wasn't half as massive as Wes' – thanks to actually having an engine intended for her chassis – , but she was just as visually impressive. Part of it was in that she was spotless, without out a spot of rust and the closest you could get to waxed in Orre. The rest was style, with sleek lines and plates that slid into each other smoothly over the almost retro military-style frame, rather than the hodgepodge that most other bikes became in the region.**

 **If you overlooked the fact that it was ever so slightly styled after a NES, right down to the battle grey and black colors and the faintly plastic texture of her outer shell, it was probably the coolest bike on the planet. Or maybe that was just some weird sort of owner's pride.**

 **"– the Regibike!" I declared.**

 **Silence. That wasn't good.**

 **"'Regibike'?" Wes asked flatly.**

 **"Like Regice, Registeel, Regirock?"**

 **Rui just stared at me.**

 **"Regigigas?" I tried again before relenting, "Naming things is hard."**

 **"It's grey. Square and grey and… is that plastic?"**

 **My dramatic pose crumbled as I physically moved to protect my bike from their harsh words. "It's made of classic Nintendium!"**

 **"I don't think that's a real thing," Wes muttered.**

 **"…isn't that for video games?" Rui whispered back.**

 **"I don't know, I've never had any."**

 **Could I theoretically undo the last five minutes if I covered the bike up again? I doubted it. Plus, I needed it for the adventure because me and Rui sharing a sidecar was cramped and uncomfortable. "Can we move on to mocking some other aspect of my life?" I asked, "Like… I don't know, my inability to learn from my mistakes, discern right from left without referencing my hands, or do math beyond basic multiplication?"**

 **"You don't know right from left?"**

 **I walked over to the nearest wall and started banging my head against it.**

* * *

 **I literally could not come up with a good name or design for the bike for a week or so, so I decided to go with something that would appeal to me and no-one else in-verse (except for like, maybe Bill or some other nerds). It's basically if you took the baby of a Powerglove and a Robotic Operating Buddy and turned it into a motorcycle. It's (kind of) cool, but most of the appeal is to people who like retro video games and fun trash to begin with.**

 **…You can see why I replaced it.**

 **On another note; Nintendo does exist in the Pokémon games, since every player character has a system in their room of some description, though if they have the Pokémon games themselves is suspect – actually, I can see them making them for kids, to help get them get ready for basic battle strategy and familiarize them with different kinds of Pokémon. They probably have different plots though (or might be based on fictional regions, who knows?).**

* * *

 **Deleted Scene – …A Week Later, I Was Sober But Ended Up Going Too Far The Other Way**

* * *

 **I grabbed the edge of the tarp and pulled, twisting my wrist halfway through the action.**

 **Where Wes' bike was some kind of Frankensteinian monster hog, my baby was a semi-modern sports tourer; blending the comfort and long-distance use of a touring bike with the performance of a sporting bike, all strung together in a stylish package… or at least as stylish as you could really get in Orre. Still, the paint was all there – diamond pattern and all –, there wasn't a spot of rust on her, all of her parts were in top condition, and there were no ugly patches on the seat, since that was one of the last things I had replaced.**

 **"I call her 'Blue Chilin'. Need to take a look at getting some anti-grav installed once we get the opportunity if we're planning on going through the dunes, but other than that, she'll take me anywhere in Orre on good time," I said, patting the motorcycle gently.**

* * *

 **Blue Chilin was named after two things. One, the color. On the second, 'chilin' is a variant spelling of 'Quilin' or 'Kirin', a mythical beast in Asian (being known in Korea, Japan, and China) mythology. There are a few interpretations of it, but Suicune is a fair approximation of both the creature, along with fitting the pun in 'Chilin'. The bike, as fitting the name, is styled after Suicune, from the windshield/dashboard being shaped like the Pokémon's horn, the diamond designs along the side, and its general specs; namely being a bike for high speed, long distance off-road runs. With a bit of work with more advanced tech – anti-grav, Van der Waals forces –, it could conceivably be able to run on walls and water like its namesake.**

 **I was initially going to keep this section, but then I started turning over the visual design of the bike over in my head and it simply didn't fit with the Orre aesthetic, particularly that of Pyrite Town. Sure, there are a few vehicles in the Orre games that are sleek and shiny, but they either a) belong to filthy rich characters or b) are from the second game, which takes place five years after the first in 'verse.**

 **A character coming from a relatively impoverished background in Pyrite Town, who's primary skillset is in mechanical and technological repair – outside of the Aura thing, of course – wouldn't have access to such a bike as what I described… at least not without stealing and even then it wouldn't likely be in as good a condition as described. So it was back to the drawing board again.**


	10. Update on the status of this story

**Alright, I forgot to give an update to this story.**

 **Here's the deal; like a lot of things, it's under rewrite and that rewrite is being posted under Chains Adventurous - Shadow Savers. Hopefully you enjoy that as much as this version of the story, because I'm trying to do... better.**


End file.
